


Star Trek Voyager: VX

by EBTreadway



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 43,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6650578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EBTreadway/pseuds/EBTreadway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meet Lt. Zariel Sindile, temporarily assigned to Voyager for its rescue mission in the Badlands.  Her children are at home without her, she has no one to depend on, and her darkest secret is about to be laid bare.  Will she come home with new friends and new abilities and a new life?  Will she make it home to her children at all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Assignment:Voyager

Stardate 48115.5

Zariel sat down at the communication screen in the family room, shook back her long strawberry blond hair and tapped the panel to accept the incoming communication. On the screen was a very young woman with bottomless black eyes, and a kind, pretty face, and an ensign's pip on her collar. Zariel recognized her as a Betzoid, and sensed that she had news that she thought might be unwelcome. She said, "Lieutenant Zariel Sindile?"  
"Yes."  
"I see here that you are scheduled to report to Starfleet Academy in four weeks, correct?"  
"Yes, I'll be teaching linguistics."  
"We have a temporary duty assignment for you in the meantime. A new Intrepid-class ship called Voyager. The mission is search and rescue, anticipated duration two weeks, maximum three."  
Zariel thought fast. Three weeks would put her home before the beginning of the upcoming semester, but… "I had a request on my personnel file for no deep space assignments, not even accompanied ones." Her older son was starting college in the fall, and her youngest beginning high school soon, and her decision to stay on Earth was important to her, prioritizing her boys' stability as well her own desire to avoid starship duty.  
"Yes, your file is tagged no deep space and no detached duty, but this is a temporary assignment. Another officer will take up the post after this mission. You'll be back in plenty of time to report to the Academy." Her eyes moved away from the screen for a moment, apparently looking at information on another screen. "You'll be back in time to get your children's school semester started." She tapped an unseen console. "I'm sending you mission parameters and your assignment. Report to Deep Space Nine, and Voyager will depart day after tomorrow."  
Zariel sighed, considerably less than pleased, but noted the arrival of a file from Starfleet Personnel, and said, "Got it. I'll be there." She powered the screen off, and muttered, "Dammit."

=/\=

Zariel went out the front door of her house, and stood on the porch, idly picking up and putting on one of the many baseball gloves that lay about. The transition from the climate-controlled house to the Mississippi humidity outside was almost a physical blow. She wondered for perhaps the millionth time how the crowd of teenage boys in her yard could manage to play in any weather at all. Her eyes went to the crack of a bat, and the ball fouled off hot, directly toward her head. On pure reflex, she caught it. Several of the players blinked hard at this. She called out, "Time," made a T-shape with her hands, walked out to the mound and asked the pitcher, "So where we at here?"  
"Bottom of the ninth, Mrs. S, two gone, one and two to this whiffer." He lifted his chin toward the kid at the plate, who happened to be her younger son, Michael. She turned back to the pitcher and said, "Great. Go ahead and put him away then." She slapped the ball into his glove, and then pointed first at Michael, then at her older son Patrick in left field, then at the house.

Ten minutes later, the door opened and her sons entered, sweaty and stinky, and made a beeline for a cold drink from the replicator. She came out of her room, where she'd been in the early stages of packing, and followed them into the kitchen. She sat at the table, and they joined her with their drinks. She sighed, and said, "Boys, I got orders."  
They blinked hard, and met her cobalt blue eyes with theirs, and as they did, their surprise hit her like a wall. Patrick said, "What about commuting to Starfleet Academy?"  
"This is just a temporary assignment. It's deep space, which I didn't want, but I'll be home in two weeks, three tops. I'll be back in time to start y'all both off at school, and then to start teaching myself."  
Michael asked, "What's the assignment?"  
"It's search and rescue, babe, but I don't think it's particularly dangerous. We'll be looking for a Maquis ship in the badlands, but there shouldn't be much Cardassian presence anymore. Just a bunch of plasma storms."  
She looked at them, and looked past what they were saying. Michael was apprehensive, just as he had always been upon her leaving. He hadn't asked about the danger, and he wouldn't. He seemed to have a better sense than Patrick did that Mom always knew what he was really asking, anyway. Patrick didn't need much reading; eminently practical, he'd want to know first how this change would affect their daily lives.  
Sure enough, Patrick's next question was, "Should we stay here? Or go stay with Mamaw and Papaw?"  
She considered. "Why don't y'all go stay down there? They can help get Michael back and forth to baseball workouts if you have to leave for work earlier."  
Michael asked, "You're sure you'll be back before school starts?"  
She grinned at him. "Baby, I'm already there."  
Patrick wanted to know, "When do you leave?"  
"I have to be on Deep Space Nine day after tomorrow, so I guess I'll need to head out tonight. Need y'all to help me close up the house this afternoon, and you can head down to your great-grandparents' in the morning."  
She could tell, in the way she'd been able to tell about people all her life, that Michael was worried and Patrick was annoyed. She wasn't particularly worried, but she certainly was in sympathy with Patrick's emotions at the moment. They'd have to move their planned beach trip, and she had really wanted to spend this school break with her boys, the three of them together. Patrick was starting college in the fall, somewhat reluctantly, and things were going to change. Nobody had discussed it much, but she knew how they were feeling about it. They all were wondering if they'd still be the same tight-knit threesome that they'd always been. They'd been Starfleet kids their whole lives, but she'd managed to create some stability for them the past five or six years, managed to avoid too many of these curve balls. One of their family sayings was that it took three points to define a plane; it was an acknowledgement that each of them was a defining part of their family. But Patrick's pending departure and now this assignment were shifting the plane a bit.  
She grinned at them, trying to soften it. "I guess your Mamaw and Papaw won't get too sick of you for three weeks, while I'm on Voyager."


	2. "Caretaker"

 

Stardate 48315.6

 

            "Brace for impact!"

            There was a white light, everything tilted sideways as Voyager was hit by the displacement wave, and Zariel opened her eyes some moments later to see dangling power cables and conduits. Dammit, she hadn't even had the chance to locate her damage control station. She pulled out the data stick she'd been given on reporting in, and held it up to the light to read the data, then took off at a dead run.

 

            She had been at her damage control station for no more than ten minutes, putting out a fire from a blown console, when the volume of yelling around her, as well as the volume of near panic, grew suddenly less. She looked around, confused, holding her fire extinguisher, and realized she was the only person remaining in the corridor.

 

=/\=

 

            When the white haze that had suddenly enveloped her drew away, she looked first at what had been the fire extinguisher in her hand. Her fingers, however, were now closed around a pair of leather reins, which led to the bridle worn by a beautiful buckskin mare. The horse whickered and tossed her head, pulling Zariel's arm up with it. Out of habit, she laid her other hand gently on the horse's nose, as she turned to take in her surroundings.

            They were idyllic; the weathered fence along the edge of the rolling green pasture, a red barn on a hill in the distance. She would have described something much like this if asked for the most peaceful place she could think of.

            She turned again and saw several of the officers and crewmen who'd been doing damage control near her, sitting on the fence or standing in the pasture. She could feel that they were just as baffled and apprehensive as she was. Seeing she was the ranking officer in sight, she beckoned them towards her, to try and organize them to explore, or something, when a similar white haze enveloped them, and her.

 

=/\=

 

            The haze drew away again, leaving Zariel lying on the floor near her damage control station, along with the people who'd been there before. She pushed the fire extinguisher off her chest and sat up, noticing that the fire she'd been putting out seemed to be long cold. Everyone slowly climbed to their feet and looked around at each other, and Zariel asked the corridor at large, "Y'all all right?"

            They all nodded, and Zariel leaned over to the nearest working panel. She tapped a quick couple of controls, and the screen displayed the stardate. She blinked at it, confused, and the others gathered around to look at the stardate displayed as well. Zariel addressed the computer. “Computer, run a Level 1 diagnostic on the stardate calculation subroutines.”

            The computer answered, “Diagnostic complete. The displayed stardate is correct.”

            Zariel could feel the confusion surrounding her, amplifying her own. She looked around at the other officers and crewmen, all also looking around in confusion.

            The stardate the computer had given them was three days later.

 

=/\=

 

            Some time later, a shipwide briefing came up on Zariel's screen. She had since finished with damage control, and the repair crew had shown up to take over. On returning to her regular duty station, she sat down at the console and scanned the briefing.

            _Seventy thousand light years from the Federation? That can't be right!_ She keyed the computer to give her Voyager's position, and then asked for a Level 1 diagnostic on those subroutines as well. On getting confirmation that they were in fact hell and gone from where they belonged, she leaned back and took a deep breath. Judging by the mounting fear she felt from the people nearby, she guessed they'd just read that too. She read on.

            A member of the bridge crew missing, along with one of the Maquis crew. Following the energy pulses to retrieve them. _Well, that makes sense,_ she thought, _but will we be able to get that array thing to send us home?_ All of the things waiting for her at home seemed to flood her mind, almost drowning out the emotional reactions that she couldn't help but feel from the rest of the crew.

 

=/\=

 

            Zariel was off duty in her quarters a couple of shifts later when the red alert was called. She pulled on her uniform top, flung her hair up into a sloppy ponytail, and took off toward her battle station. By the time she arrived, the Kazon ships were powering up their weapons.

            The battle went well at first, but once the Kazon were reinforced, neither the ValJean nor Voyager had enough firepower to repel the Kazon attack. Zariel watched on her screen in disbelief as the Maquis ship streaked toward the Kazon vessel, trailing a comet's tail of burning fuel and debris, then in horror as the burning Kazon ship crashed through one of the arms of the array. _If that thing is damaged, can it still send us home?_

            Her screen updated to indicate that the tri-cobalt devices were being readied. Zariel took a deep breath and relaxed a bit. _That'll take care of the Kazon,_ she thought. _Then we can figure out how to get that array to send us home. I'll be back sooner than I…_ The train of thought derailed as she watched in uncomprehending shock the tri-cobalt bombs smashing instead directly into the Caretaker's array. She sat frozen, lost in wordless denial as the Caretaker's detonation also destroyed her hopes of ever seeing home again.

            Zariel followed the few orders she'd received numbly, as did those around her. She could feel their shock and fear, and it was all but indistinguishable from her own. Presently, the Captain addressed the entire ship, and her crewmates began to stir and pay attention. Zariel, however, could barely focus on Captain Janeway's words.

            "We're alone, in an uncharted part of the galaxy. We've already made some friends here, and some enemies. We have no idea of the dangers we're going to face. But one thing is clear: both crews are going to have to work together, if we're to survive. That's why Commander Chakotay and I have agreed that this should be one crew, a Starfleet crew. And as the only Starfleet vessel assigned to the Delta Quadrant, we'll continue to follow our directive to seek out new worlds and explore space. But our primary goal is clear. Even at maximum speeds, it would take 75 years to reach the Federation. But I'm not willing to settle for that. There's another entity like the Caretaker out there somewhere who has the ability to get us there a lot faster. We'll be looking for her. And we'll be looking for wormholes, spatial rifts or new technologies to help us. Somewhere, along this journey, we'll find a way back. Mr. Paris, set a course… for home."


	3. Farther Shore

 

Stardate 48562.5

 

            All the way forward, one deck below the mess hall, on the starboard side, a corridor took a slight jog and a cabin wall had been moved, creating an oddly shaped little alcove maybe two meters long and one wide. The visual lines of the structural supports in the corridor drew the eye inexorably away, and the tiny alcove was practically invisible from more than two meters distant.

            Zariel had seen this very private little place on the ship's schematics her first week or two in the Delta Quadrant, and wondered if anyone else had paid any attention to it. She kept waiting for an opportunity to check it out, but also kept putting it off for some reason. She quite irrationally felt as though she needed to, had to, go and be in that small place, as though there were some comfort to be had there. She also felt, equally strongly and equally irrationally, that she would be unable to bear it if someone else should be there.

            One particularly sad and stressful day, when she had mis-tapped every panel and misspelled every word, and everyone's loud and grating emotions were scraping the skin off her brain, and seventy thousand light years seemed now and forever insurmountable, the balance tipped, and she went.

            She entered the mess hall on the starboard side, got a glass of juice from Neelix. She planned to nod and smile, wave her drink and feign a terrible hurry if anyone smiled and beckoned her to join them. No one did.

            She exited the mess hall by the port side door, and stood and listened a moment. No footsteps heading toward the door inside the mess hall. She hurried to the turbolift, rode one deck down, and finally reached the end of the corridor and the little vagary of ship's construction.

            There was no one there, and no sign there ever had been. The tiny alcove was comprised of three solid, unadorned, floor-to-ceiling walls, and one wall that was three-quarters window. At the moment, with Voyager moving at moderate warp, the stars streaked toward and past this window in multi-colored arrows of light.

            Zariel stepped all the way inside, where she would also become invisible from the rest of the corridor, the rest of the ship. She longed to be able to do that for real, and decided this little cubbyhole would have to be good enough.   She simply stood for a while, watching the stars streak by, and their motion seemed to lighten her heart, to take away a miniscule piece of the weight that daily seemed to crush her. Each star that flew by was one little piece off that seventy thousand light years, one little bit closer to home, to her boys.

 

=/\=

 

            Over the days and weeks that followed, Zariel could often be found, if anyone had been looking, in what she came to think of as her cubbyhole. At first she simply stood and watched the stars, but as she came to spend more and more time there, she began to lean a shoulder against the bulkheads, then to kneel on the floor, until eventually she would be sitting on the floor with one shoulder braced against the forward bulkhead, just under the window, and her entire body weight leaned against it. She felt as though she could not completely relax anywhere else, as though she were derelict in a duty if she were not there, leaning on the forward-most bulkhead, pushing the ship across that seventy thousand light years. After spending any length of time there, Zariel would leave stiff of body and very sore of shoulder.

            One day, leaning against the forward wall under the windows, leaning harder than ever into its increasingly elusive comfort, Zariel's comm badge chirped, followed by her name. She sat up and tapped it.

            "Lieutenant Sindile here. Yes, Captain?"

            Captain Janeway said, "Please meet me in the bridge briefing room at 1130 hours today."

            "Already there, Captain."

            "Pardon?"

            "I'm sorry, Captain, I meant, I'll be there."

            Zariel did not mention that her duty shift began at 1230 hours; she had gotten to know her captain at least that well – the Captain would have checked the duty roster.

           


	4. Xeno

 

Stardate 48910.2

 

            "Come in, Lieutenant."

            Captain Janeway beckoned Zariel into the briefing room, and continued, when Zariel looked around and noted all the people sitting around the conference table, "You're not late."

            Zariel nodded, and took the seat that the Captain indicated, next to Commander Tuvok and across from three ensigns whose faces she had seen, but whose names she did not recall. Zariel settled into her seat and looked toward the Captain at the head of the table, and the younger officers did as well; apparently they had no more idea than she did what this meeting was about. Only Tuvok didn't seem confused, tapping idly on the screen of a PADD. The Captain leaned back a bit in her chair.

            "Ladies and gentlemen, we are the only Federation ship in the Delta quadrant currently. Or ever, as far as we know. We're going to be seeing a lot of new things, agreed?"

            They all nodded, this was obvious so far.

            "Well, each of you specializes in new things; in analyzing, categorizing and documenting things never before encountered. Ensign T'Lin, new planets, yes?"

            The young Vulcan woman directly across from Zariel nodded.

            "Ensign Hall, new plants." The red-haired young man next to the Captain nodded as well.

            "Ensign Wildman, new life forms." The blond woman nodded with a little smile. Zariel got the feeling that a smile was her default expression.

            "And Lieutenant Sindile, new forms of communication." Zariel acknowledged this with a nod as well. She could not divine from the Captain's emotional emanations where this was going, only that she was enthusiastic about her bright new idea.

            "Well, Tuvok and I thought it might be useful to have a whole new department for this purpose. The four of you could mesh your specialties, and then coordinate with your original departments. I know a physical space we could retrofit for you, some sensor bandwidth we could assign to you on a permanent basis, plenty of computer availability. You'd be part of the sciences command structure, reporting directly to the Science Officer, and your CO would be part of the bridge rotation."

            She looked around at the four of them. "What do you think?"

            Zariel didn't need them to answer out loud, she could already tell: they all loved it.

            Ensign Wildman said, "I think it's great, Captain, we can build more detailed analyses by working from one another's data."

            Ensign T'Lin said, "I can also envision a predictive element to our work, Captain. Similarities between species we have already encountered and those we might encounter in the future."

            Redheaded young Ensign Hall grinned. "I'm excited to be a part of it, Captain."

            Zariel hadn't said anything, so the Captain turned to her. "Lieutenant, would you be willing to command this new department? Willing to test to qualify for bridge duty?"

            Zariel was a bit taken aback by this, although it probably should have been obvious that she was the ranking officer. She took a deep breath, and a quick measure of their emotional reaction to her prospective leadership, then answered, "I'd be honored, Captain, not just willing."

            She shot the ensigns a quick, cautious smile, and the two humans gave her one back. T'Lin lifted her chin the tiniest fraction.

            Captain Janeway continued, "We couldn't really decide how to refer to this new department, however." Her eyebrow waggled a bit as she glanced at Tuvok. "Delta Sciences? Multi-sci department?"

            Zariel sat up straight in her chair, as an idea hit her. She looked around at the three ensigns, and could almost pick the same answer out of their feelings as well. "Well, Captain, all of our specialties have the same prefix." She spread her hands to indicate her new crew. "We're the Xeno department." She glanced over at them for approval; the humans were grinning theirs, and the young Vulcan gave her a nod as well. The pleased look on the Captain's face cemented the decision.


	5. Here's To Us

 

Stardate 49010.3

 

"Lieutenant Sindile, can I ask you a question?" Samantha stood hesitantly behind Zariel's chair.

Zariel turned partway around and smiled at her. "Of course, Ensign."

"What is that song you were humming earlier?"

Zariel turned a bit pink. "Oh, I'm sorry, was it bothering you?"

Sam turned a bit pink also. "No, not at all! I was just trying to figure out what song it was, because I think I know it too."

Zariel turned her chair completely around to face Sam. "Really? It's called 'Here's To Us.' I used to sing it to my sons when they were little."

Sam grinned. "That’s exactly what I thought I was hearing. I annoyed my piano teacher for three weeks by working on that instead of what she'd assigned."

Zariel couldn't help but smile now. "You play keyboards?"

Samantha nodded, but said, "It's been a while though. Do you like early 21st century music too?"

"Yeah, I played a lot of late 20th and 21st century music on the guitar, but it's been a while for me too."

Samantha nodded and made to turn away, but then spun back toward her CO as an idea hit her. "Lieutenant, do you have plans after your shift?"

Zariel shook her head, and Sam stepped across to T'Lin's console next to Zariel and began tapping panels. After a moment she stood back and pointed to a screen. "Holodeck two is free for an hour at 1900. Do you want to maybe go and play 'Here's To Us' together?"

\Zariel considered for a moment begging off, but what was she going to do with herself all evening otherwise? Her alternatives for the evening were rattling around her quarters, headachy and mildly nauseated, unable to settle to any activity, or leaning hard into a bulkhead in her secret cubbyhole. Neither one being a cheerful alternative, she took a deep breath, and said, "I’m already there."

 

=/\=

 

By the time 1900 hours rolled around, Zariel had gotten herself more than a little worried about the social interaction, and was rethinking the potential appeal of a spell in her cubbyhole. She stood outside the door of Holodeck 2, getting closer and closer to convincing herself to flee, when Samantha walked up with a couple of PADDs in her hands. Pretending not to notice Zariel's apprehension, Samantha sent a smile her way and walked up to the control panel for the holodeck, tapped a few panels and the door whooshed open. Sam walked partway in, then turned and beckoned Zariel to follow her. They stopped at the control console just inside, and Sam addressed the computer. "Please give me Wildman keyboard group number one."

\Zariel shot her a look of surprise. "You've come in here to play before?"

"Just once," Samantha answered. "It really wasn't much fun by myself."

Zariel smiled her agreement, and then began to scroll though the sets of guitar gear the computer had on file. She tapped the panel to select one, and looked up to see an acoustic guitar, a stool and a music stand materialize beside Samantha's keyboard.

Sam was already sitting at her keyboard, twiddling with the settings. She held one of the PADDs out to Zariel and said. "Shall we give it a shot?"

Zariel sat down on the stool and set the PADD on the music stand. She strummed the guitar a bit to get a feel for its action, then smiled up at Sam. “Why don’t you do the lead, and I’ll play rhythm underneath it?”

Sam nodded. “Do you like this key for the vocals?”

“Sure, it’s fine for me for the lead.” She shot Samantha an apprehensive glance. “Unless you’d rather me do the harmony.”

Samantha raised both hands off the keyboard, palms out. “Oh no. No, no, no. That’s all you; I don’t sing. At all. Computer, a stand microphone for Lieutenant Sindile, please."

Before Zariel could argue this, Samantha started into the intro. Zariel blinked, then pulled the newly materialized mike toward her and jumped in. She didn't see Samantha's face light up in delight at the quality of her smooth mezzo voice.

It only took them three times through the song to sound, they thought, not too bad at all, and Zariel was able to concentrate not on the cacophony of people's emotions but on the more ordered sound of their music, for a while at least.


	6. Music Hath Charms

 

Stardate 49063.6

 

Samantha walked into Xeno immediately behind Zariel, their duty shift about to begin. Wally and T'Lin, whose shifts were about to end, looked up and greeted them as they entered.

"So, are we going to play this evening?" Sam asked.

Before Zariel, who had been eating and sleeping increasingly poorly and who'd had a bad night the previous night, could make an excuse, Wally perked up. "Play what?"

Sam answered, "Well, she plays guitar and I play keyboards, and we really just kind of mess around with songs we already know."

Wally spun his chair to face them. "Could you use a drummer?"

Samantha's face lit up. "Sure! Can you come to Holodeck Two at 1800?"

Wally stretched out in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. "Oh yeah, I've been wanting an excuse to play. You bet I'll be there." He turned to T'Lin, who was still bent over her console. "Hey, T'Lin, you're a musician too, right? Why don't you join us?"

T'Lin turned to look at him, a bit puzzled. "For what purpose?"

Wally rolled his eyes, then turned toward her. "For fun, what else? To enjoy each other's company and to create something together." He flung his palms out, as though this should be obvious. "You know, like friends?"

T'Lin continued to look at him blankly, and he got up from his station, grabbed up his carry case from the floor, muttering, "Vulcans, che frustrante, Dio mio." He pointed at T'Lin. "Holodeck Two, eighteen hundred, be there. If you have your instrument, bring it. If not, we'll replicate you one." He turned and exited, chin firmly forward.

T'Lin got up and exited as well, nodding a farewell to her CO.

Zariel folded her arms, a bit uncomfortable now. Meeting Samantha to play music had been very soothing to her. She always felt better afterward, could usually sleep and eat better. The music lessened the weight, the terrible intrusion, of the constant proximity of others. Would that now be lost with the addition of a larger group?

Zariel started as Samantha laid a hand on her shoulder. "I hope it was okay to invite them to join us."

Zariel said, "Yes, of course, it'll be fun. I bet they'll enjoy it as much as I have."

But Samantha stepped in front of her, taking in the weight loss and the incipient dark circles under Zariel's eyes. "Are you okay? You seem like you aren't feeling very well today."

Zariel shook her head, and moved away, toward her station. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't sleep all that well last night, but I'm okay, really." She didn't see Sam put hands on hips and shoot her a disbelieving look.

 

=/\=

 

Zariel walked up to the door of Holodeck Two a few minutes before 1800 hours, and from the hallway could already hear the sound of Wally's drum set. She stood and listened for a moment, delighted. He was good; he was going to add a nice dimension to their sound.

She walked to the door and waited while it whooshed open, then went to the control console to order her guitar. She frowned, noticing that with the addition of two more musicians, the computer gave her a slightly different guitar.

She walked to the center of the room, where Wally finished a riff with a flourish and grinned at her, twirling a drumstick in one hand. T'Lin was there as well, a ka'athyra or Vulcan harp at her feet and a guitar in her lap. She was looking at the lead sheet, and apparently, learning the chords she was about to play. Zariel was tempted to mutter something about Vulcans and how they made everything look easy, but instead she asked T'Lin, pointing at the ka'athyra, "Is that yours or is it replicated?"

T'Lin set the guitar down and picked up the traditional Vulcan instrument, apparently deciding on playing it instead of the guitar. "It is mine. I brought it on board with me at the insistence of my parents."

Zariel frowned and tilted her head, questioning, and T'Lin explained, "I did not think I would need it on a three-week assignment."

At that, Zariel grinned ruefully, thinking of all the stuff she'd have brought with her if she'd known she'd be gone for the foreseeable future.

Samantha entered and ordered up her keyboard. Once she got set up, she tapped a few controls on her PADD to share music on their devices as well.

"Lieutenant, since we were working songs we associate with a pleasant memory, I had Wally and T'Lin pick some too."

Zariel twiddled one of the tuning pegs on her guitar. "Sounds great. Anyone else sing, I hope?"

Wally and T'Lin both nodded, and Wally said, "But you're doing lead vocals. We've heard about that voice."

Zariel shot an incredulous look at Samantha, who gave her an innocent look and a shrug, and merely started the intro to the first song on the list.

Zariel shook her head and allowed herself to get lost in the music. Over the next hour, she discovered that leading them in this was as effortless as leading them in their duties, and that the soothing effect of the music was increased by the increase in their number.


	7. Descent

 

Stardate 50020.1

 

Zariel lurched into the bathroom in her quarters a bit after oh two hundred hours, and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet just in time to throw up all of the meager meal she had been able to force down an hour earlier. Streaming eyes clamped shut, she reached up without looking to hit the recycle button. As the nausea receded, a wave of dizziness nearly swept her to the floor. For an endless time, she clung helplessly to the toilet as the universe spun sickeningly around her. It was quite a while before she could lever herself painfully to her feet and make her way back to her bunk, clinging to the walls for support.

She slid painfully onto the bed and curled up into a ball, arms folded around her aching stomach, and lay shivering in the featureless dark. Several days a week, now, she was overwhelmed by the emotions she couldn't escape. It would begin as a gnawing in her stomach that grew until not even water would stay down. The only thing that would ease the nausea at all was sleep.

True restorative sleep, however, had become a thing of memory. She couldn't rest with the constant noise of others' emotions, couldn't get far enough away for her mind to be quiet. A similar gnawing in her brain prevented the rest her body and mind cried out for.

She had long since ceased being able to derive any comfort from her previous habit of sitting in her cubbyhole. Its proximity to the mess hall ensured that there were always people who seemed to be right on top of her, their nearness feeling like they were screaming their feelings into her ears. The streaking stars no longer made her feel any closer to home.

Even the brief respite provided by the music she shared with her colleagues had been hard to come by lately. Schedules didn't mesh, shipboard routine got disrupted by eventful side trips, not to mention Samantha's advancing pregnancy, and playing together necessarily became a lower priority.

Eventually she drifted into a thin sleep that was neither long enough or deep enough to ease the misery that had become her constant companion.

 

=/\=

 

Wally rapped his knuckles on the edge of his console to get Samantha's attention, and when she looked up, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate Zariel as she entered Xeno the following morning. Samantha glanced over her shoulder as Zariel eased herself into the chair at her station, and winced at what she saw. Zariel had been looking poorly for some time, but today she seemed much worse. Dark circles under her eyes weren't just incipient but prominent. Her uniform seemed to be several sizes too large. She moved gingerly, as though movement itself was painful. Wally and Samantha met each other's eyes, agreeing that something needed to be done, but without a clue as to what. Samantha was about to rise, about to try and work out something to say, when she saw T'Lin get up.

T’Lin approached Zariel’s station and said diffidently, “Lieutenant?”

Zariel turned her chair around to see T’Lin holding a vial of yellowish-orange liquid. She proffered this to Zariel, saying, “Spice tea.”

Zariel looked up at her a bit blearily, and said, “Beg your pardon?”

“This is Vulcan spice tea, with a bit of Terran ginger added. It is known to have a soothing effect on the digestive tract, particularly if consumed warm."

Zariel frowned a bit and was about to argue the necessity, when Samantha came to stand beside T'Lin, and Wally knelt beside her chair.

Samantha said, "It can't hurt to try it. It's delicious, actually, T'Lin made it for me when I was pregnant."

Wally said, lightly, "Or you could, you know, go to sickbay. Let the Doctor see what's wrong."

At that, though, Zariel had had enough; the conversation was coming too close to what she wanted them to never find out. She sat up straighter in her chair, and reached to take the vial from T'Lin. "Thank you very much, Ensign, I will definitely try the tea. I'm fine. There's no need for me to bother the Doctor."

All three of them began speaking at the same time.

"You've gotta be kidding me, it's obvious there's something wrong…"

"It is illogical not to avail yourself of medical assistance…"

"Please go see the Doctor, you haven't been feeling well since…"

Zariel interrupted their well-intentioned trio as her console beeped and a block of yellow text appeared on one of the screens behind her. "Y'all, I'll deal with it, it's fine." She turned her chair around and pointed at the text of the briefing, and the others leaned over to read it as well. "One way or the other, it's going to have to wait. Looks like Seska's back."


	8. "Basics, Part II"

 

Stardate 50032.7

 

Zariel's ponytail and T'Lin's patent leather bob were ruffled by the breeze as Voyager took off under the control of the Kazon Nistrim, marooning them here. Wherever here even was. The crew of Voyager was painfully aware of that reality, and the emanations from the group around her were almost too much for Zariel to bear.

Wally stepped closer to Zariel and T'Lin, as if to offer comfort. Zariel turned and slid an arm behind Samantha's waist, and looked down with her into Baby Naomi's tiny face.

"Sam, you and lil miss sweetness ought to stay with the larger group when we split off, it'll be safer. We'll see you when we meet back up."

Samantha nodded and moved toward Chakotay, as the other three members of Xeno split off ninety degrees from the group to see what they could find to live on.

They were walking alongside a narrow ridge of hills when Wally swatted her arm and pointed off to their right. Zariel and T'Lin stopped to look where he was pointing. "See how the bushes are a different color on the edge of that ridge over there? Could indicate water on the other side."

Zariel checked the lay of the land, then turned to the others. "Y'all stay here, I'll climb up and check it out."

She could feel they were about to protest, and said, "We'll be line of sight from each other the whole time. Y'all get in the shade."

Zariel took the climb slowly, knowing that everyone's biggest danger right now was dehydration, and hers particularly, having spent the last few weeks replacing increasingly short rations with the Vulcan spice tea that T'Lin left at her station each day without comment. As she ascended, she felt Wally's emotions drop slowly behind her. She became aware that she could sense less from the whole group as well, and it felt like a weight dropping off her shoulders. When she straightened to her feet at the top of the ridge, it seemed like the straightest she'd stood in a year.

However, now that she stood among the vegetation that had seemed a different color from the ground, it was evident that it was not caused by the presence of water. The other side of the ridge looked just the same as this side, volcanic hills saved from being desert only by a few sparse scrubby bushes.

She took the descent slowly as well, and was glad to see that Wally and T'Lin had indeed moved into whatever thin shade was available, keeping out of the sun and conserving water. When she reached them, she shook her head. They shrugged in answer, and the three of them continued across the plain.

 

=/\=

 

Baby Naomi seemed listless that evening, tired, as though even breathing was wearing her out. Samantha reported this to the Captain when she came by, checking on everyone and encouraging groups to huddle together for warmth. The Xeno department did just that, surrounding little Naomi, except for T'Lin, who insisted that the temperature was not life-threatening, and instead paced back and forth behind them.

They looked up when Chakotay had some success, finally, getting a fire going. The warmth from it washed over them, but the sense of something not right washed over Zariel as well. She had never, in the past, attempted to isolate one person's emotional output through the mental noise, but some people stood out to her anyway, such as her sons or the other members of Xeno, and Kes. Zariel supposed this was because Kes was a telepath herself, but it made her very much, almost painfully, aware when Kes was nearby. And when she wasn't. Zariel hauled herself to her feet, raising one finger to her Xeno crew, asking them to wait a moment, then walked over to where Chakotay sat crouched by the fire.

She squatted down beside him and said, "Kes is missing. I guess Neelix too."

Chakotay looked up at her, and she pointed to the footprints where Neelix and Kes had walked away from the group. Chakotay took a step in that direction, then turned back to Zariel, the question clear on his face. Zariel, however, had acquired plenty of experience covering for her ability. She made sure her eyes never met his, never gave him the chance to ask, "How did you know that?"

 

=/\=

 

Over the next days, Zariel, as well as Wally and T'Lin, spent a good deal of time away from camp, looking for needful things. Wally's botanical expertise was necessary for these forays, and he found several additional types of plants to add to the store of edibles. T'Lin the geologist discovered some subsurface water soaks that could be tapped with a hollow plant stem, and saw signs of other water sources they might be able to tap later.

Zariel was quick to volunteer to go with them or anyone else leaving camp and provide a ready arrow to shoot. While away from camp she basked in the feeling of not being surrounded. It had been so long since she had had her mind to herself that she delighted in every moment of it. Sleep came more easily again, and what little food there was stayed down. Zariel was feeling almost human again.

So it was bad timing that neither Zariel, Wally nor T'Lin were about when Samantha's baby took a turn for the worse.

 

 Zariel and Wally returned from one direction and T'Lin from another, to find Samantha in near panic over the baby's condition, and the camp in evacuation mode. The noise from the volcano told them all they needed to know. The place where they'd been staying would soon be engulfed by lava.

They formed up around Sam and the baby as the crew hurried toward higher ground. It seemed they would be able to get well away from the descending lava, when suddenly the front of the line came to a halt. Zariel stepped to the side to see past the crew in front of her. It seemed that Chakotay had climbed down some rocks and was carrying one of the native women to safety from the lava flow. Zariel could easily feel the diminution of the tension as Chakotay set the woman on the ground, and the natives began to understand that the Voyager crew had no hostile intentions.

 

=/\=

 

The leader of the natives, a grizzled, gray-haired old man, had spotted Samantha and the baby, and now that they had stopped in a safe place, he headed towards them. He approached slowly, hands out, but as he began to reach into the pouch he wore around his waist, tension began to rise. The old leader continued to move toward the baby, and several people began to think about stepping in his way.

Zariel raised her voice, and said, "Let him through, he can help her. He's certain of it."

As they stood away, staring at her, she followed the old native through the group, and took up a position immediately behind him, where she could jerk him away from Sam's baby if her assessment were wrong. The captain knelt down beside Samantha, as the old man laid some herbs on the baby's chest. As the child began breathing more easily, the group did too. It wasn't long, however, before their gazes began to drift from the mother and baby, to Zariel. The Captain was the one who asked it.

"How did you know he could help the baby?"

Zariel, however, wasn't just good at avoidance. "Didn't y'all?" she asked the group at large. "Y'all all saw how steady his gaze was, the way his hands were moving." Zariel smiled internally at her successful misdirection efforts. _Yeah, the best defense is offense. Also, make 'em think you notice things they don't – keeps 'em checking up on themselves rather than watching you._

Sure enough, those around her cast their eyes around for a moment, until everyone's eyes one by one were drawn to a growing noise in the plain below.

In the distance, Voyager was descending to the surface.

 

=/\=

 

Back aboard Voyager, the sense of homecoming that everyone seemed to be feeling, as well as the eagerness to get back on the road, nearly overwhelmed Zariel as soon as the airlocks were all closed. She managed to get Samantha and the baby settled in their quarters, after walking them first to sickbay so that the Doctor could see to the baby.

Zariel's headache had been growing worse since Voyager had lifted off, and once she left Sam's quarters, the familiar dizziness and nausea began to grow as well. Quite frightened by the rapid return of her symptoms, she made for her quarters, unable to think what else to do except get to some familiar surroundings and attempt to sleep. All she could think of was home. _I can't get home if I can't stay on the ship, I can't get home if I can't stay on the ship._ Her vision was narrowing, going black around the edges. She didn't think she was going to make it to her quarters, although she desperately wanted to, before anyone observed her hanging on corridor walls to stay upright.

That was not to be; the last thing she saw, before the blackness obscured her vision entirely, was Wally's concerned face in front of hers, the last sound his pleas of, "Zariel, are you okay? What's wrong? Zariel? Zariel!"

She never felt it when her body slumped bonelessly to the deck.


	9. Overload

 

Stardate 50026.6

 

            She had barely opened her eyes when the Doctor laid a hand gently on her forehead.

            "Easy, Lieutenant, don't try to move yet.  You're in sickbay."  Her eyes focused on him.  He anticipated her next question as well.  "You've been here about an hour."

            A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she closed her eyes, waiting for it to pass.  He heard the hiss of a hypospray at her neck, and the Doctor said, "This should help with the dizziness and the headache."

            It did.  She opened her eyes and slowly sat up, her hands clasped in her lap.  The Doctor came and leaned against the edge of the bio bed and asked, "Better?"  She nodded, and he continued, "Well, Lieutenant, it seems that you have a very rare ability.  You're what's called an empath."

            She looked down at her hands, and answered softly, "Yes sir."

            "You were aware of that?"

            She seemed to struggle to keep her voice audible.  "Yes.  But I don't know how to turn it off.  I don't intend to invade people's privacy.  I'm sorry."

            "Lieutenant, you haven't done anything wrong." She dropped her gaze back to her hands in her lap.  He asked, his voice quick with curiosity, "How long have you been aware of your ability?"

            She whispered, "As long as I can remember.  But it's been a long time since I've let it… overload… like this."

            "You've been incapacitated by your ability before?  How many times?"

            "Oh, three or four, that I can remember."

            The Doctor picked up a PADD and began tapping on it.  She glanced at it apprehensively, and he set it down again.  "What do you do to prevent these overloads?  Or to recover from them?"

            She clasped her hands together hard.  "Stay away from people, sleep a lot."

            "Does that work?"

            "Some.  Sometimes."

            He glanced down at a beep from his tricorder.  "Do the overloads affect your appetite?  Your digestion?"

            "Adversely," she answered, with a slight roll of her eyes.

            The Doctor folded his arms and frowned.  "Was your family aware of your ability when you were a child? " When she nodded again, he continued,  "Weren't you given any training in how to manage it?"

            She snorted softly.  "Not hardly."

            The door whooshed open, and the Doctor turned and said, "Oh good, Commander, come in, she's awake."

            Commander Tuvok strode into sickbay, but stopped short as Zariel seemed to shrink, drawing her knees up almost to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, her eyes wide and fearful, locked on Tuvok.  The Doctor laid a hand on her back and she started slightly.  "Easy, Lieutenant, it's all right, Tuvok is here to help.  I asked him to come here.  What's wrong?"

            Tuvok very carefully stayed where he was, hands at his sides. "Lieutenant, there is no need for apprehension.  I only wished to offer you my assistance in dealing with your gift."

            Not quite steadily, she whispered, "You aren't here to take it away?"

            The Doctor laid an arm across her shoulders.  "No, of course not!  Why would you think anyone wanted to take away your empathic ability?"

            Her voice was so faint the Doctor could barely hear her. "Because I lost control of it again." She drew in a ragged breath.  "Because it's not normal for humans."  A single tear rolled down her face.  "Because I'm a freak, and now everybody knows it."

            The Doctor jerked his head at Tuvok to withdraw slightly, and then sat on the edge of the bio bed so that he could face her directly, and said, "Lieutenant, please look at me."  She did, her lips trembling.  "I need you to listen closely right now.  Can you do that?"  When she nodded, he said, slowly and clearly, "You are not a freak.  Your ability may be rare, but it does not make you abnormal."  She dropped her head again, and he hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face back up, making her look at him.  "It is not something you should ever be ashamed of."  

            Tuvok had retreated behind the medical console, and now he spoke from there.  "Correct, Lieutenant.  Nature has given you a gift.  You can learn how to refine your control of it.  You can be taught to block the emanations, to consciously refrain from using it."

            As he was speaking, she curled up even tighter, arms around her knees, and breathed, "My whole life I'm wishin' I knew how to do that."

            Tuvok seemed unable to keep a twinge of anger out of his voice.  "I would also have taught you to treasure your gift, not to fear it."

            When she seemed to have calmed a bit, the Doctor laid a steadying hand on her arm and asked softly, "Is it all right if Tuvok comes into the bio bay to speak to you?  I promise he won't touch you without your permission."

            She nodded, but her eyes followed him as he came into the bay and stood against the wall, steepling his hands in front of him.  "Lieutenant, I must be very clear: I do not have the ability to remove your empathic sense.  No Vulcan has that ability, and no Vulcan would ever harm the integrity of your mind in that way.  Can you believe that, in even the smallest degree?"

            She nodded, but he shook his head.  "Please verbalize it, if you would."

            The Doctor gave her an encouraging nod as she took a deep breath. "You can't take away my empathy, and you wouldn't if you could."

            He gave her an approving look and said, "Well done.  A question: do you find sleep to be curative, in dealing with your gift?"

            "Yes, sir.  When I can sleep."

            "Then if I may suggest it, you should rest for several hours right now, here in sickbay, with the Doctor's assistance if necessary.  Conditions have been difficult lately, and perhaps even more so for you.  Additionally, the physical and mental strain of this incident, this…" He said a word in Vulcan, then continued, "My apologies, the closest Standard translation is 'overload,' as well as the stress of my presence, seem to have been considerable.  Doctor, do you concur?"

            "Absolutely," said the Doctor, standing up and bustling around the bio bay, gathering what he needed.

            "After you have recovered, Lieutenant, if you decide you wish to avail yourself of my assistance in learning the skills I mentioned, I am more than willing."

            She met his eyes, only for a nanosecond.  "You've been of assistance already, Commander."

            "It is generous of you to say so.  Rest well."  Tuvok withdrew behind the medical console, and the Doctor returned to her side.  With a hand behind her back, he eased her down to the bed, and tucked a pillow under her head.  He held up a hypospray so she could see.  "This is a rather strong sedative. It and the force field should counteract most of the emanations from the crew."

            She nodded, and the hypospray hissed cold against her neck.  The Doctor drew a blanket over her, tucking it in gently around her shoulders.  "I'm going to put up a force field and turn off the lights, but just ask the computer if you need me."  She nodded, and he went on, "This is a medical directive from your physician.  You are to take this time to rest and recover.  There is absolutely nothing you need to do or worry about until that is done."  She nodded again, and he stepped away from the bio bed.  "Computer, erect a Level 6 opaque force field around the bio bay, dim the lights, and disable the visual and audio response for the chronometer."  He laid a hand on her forehead.  "Good night."

 

=/\=

 

            The Doctor stepped through the force field, and inclined his head to Tuvok to join him in the office.  As they sat down, Captain Janeway entered as well, and sat down in the other chair.  "Well, Doctor, how is Lieutenant Sindile?"

            The Doctor sighed.  "Captain, I don't even know where to begin.  She's physically exhausted, emotionally overloaded, her neurotransmitter levels are so far off normal she shouldn't be able to complete a sentence, she's even quite a bit more malnourished than the rest of you. I was surprised she was only out for an hour.  I've given her something to help her sleep, and I intend to let her do so as long as she can right now."

            "What exactly happened to her?  She was a rock while we were marooned. We're back aboard Voyager no more than an hour and she's unconscious on the deck."

            "Well, Captain, I suspect that this crisis has been building she's been on Voyager.  Lieutenant Sindile is a proximity empath, and a powerful one.  She has been absorbing emotions from everyone she has contact with for two years without respite, to say nothing of sorting through her own emotions.  She can't filter it, or mute it, and she just… shut down."

            "How can she be an empath?  I thought she was human."

            "She is, Captain, she has a fully human genome.  I don't understand it yet; I didn't know about it until today.  She has kept that secret for her whole life, as far as I can tell.  There's nothing about it in her file from Starfleet Medical."

            "But she can learn how to control it?"

            Tuvok made an abrupt sound, and the Captain turned to him.  "Tuvok?  Were you able to do anything for her?"

            Janeway knew Tuvok well enough to recognize the rigid way he was holding himself; it meant that if he were human, he'd have been in a towering fury.  He did not quite meet the Captain's eyes as he spoke, another indication he was carefully controlling anger.  "No, Captain, I was barely able to stand within five meters of her.  She is terrified of me."

            "What? Why?"

            "Correction: she is terrified that a Vulcan will attempt to remove her empathic ability.  Based on statements she made, I must surmise that as a child she was told that her gift was an unwelcome aberration, an abnormality of which she should be ashamed and which she must keep secret.  She was also apparently threatened with having her mind forcibly violated to suppress it if she failed to keep it in control, and was expected to do so without the benefit of training."  Tuvok finally met Janeway's eyes.  "Forgive me, Captain, but on Vulcan this would be considered the vilest form of abuse."

            While he was speaking, the Captain's eyes grew wide, and she pressed her knuckles against her lips. "That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard."  She clenched her raised fist hard, and then deliberately relaxed her hands.  "But now that I think about it, I can see evidence of that ability in her.  I remember thinking how intuitive she was when we formed the Xeno department and put her in command of it."

            "Indeed, Captain.  An empath always makes an exceptional leader.  She has shown herself to be willing to help others.  Now it remains to be seen if she will allow us to help her."

 

=/\=

 

            Zariel lay in the darkened bio bay, eyes wide open, clutching her blanket around her neck, shaking all over, feeling as though it were the end of the universe.  Her darkest secret was out, and all her worst fears were circling.  Her friends would desert her.  Everyone she had come to know on Voyager would hate her, be afraid of her.  Her captain would certainly take away her command and probably her commission, maybe even order her off the ship.  She would die alone, marooned in the Delta quadrant, never to see her boys again.  Not that her thoughts were that articulate; she simply floated on wave after wave of panic, growing steadily more dizzy and nauseated.  Finally she sat up, head reeling, stomach roiling, struggling to breathe, trembling so hard her blanket fell to the floor.  Something beeped on a console somewhere, and a moment later the Doctor came through the force field, puzzlement on his face deepening to concern.  He pulled a tricorder and looked at the readings for a moment, then took her wrists in his hands and swiftly raised both her arms over her head.  Startled, she drew in a deep breath, then another.  As she did, the Doctor released her wrists and spoke soothingly, "That's right, just breathe.  That's it, good."  He waited until she had taken five or six full breaths, then asked rhetorically, "What is going on in here?  You're supposed to be sleeping, not worrying yourself sick."

            She seemed quite unable to respond anyway, so he picked up the blanket off the floor and wrapped it around her snugly.  She moved her hands to hold it closed, and looked at him, her eyes terrified.

            "Have you ever suffered an anxiety attack before, Lieutenant?"  When she gave the barest shake of her head, he went on, "Well, you are now.  I can't medicate you, not on top of the meds I gave you earlier, so we'll just have to ride this out."

            He sat down on the edge of the bio bed and laid his hands on her shoulders.  "You're going to be fine, just breathe slowly."

            She nodded and did her best to breathe steadily, but he could see the misery and sickness on her face as she put one hand to her forehead.  He decided to try something a little out of the ordinary, but of undeniable therapeutic value.  He moved closer and slid his arms around her, pulling her close against him, allowing her head to drop onto his shoulder.  She stiffened at first, then relaxed as he stroked her back and her hair and continued to speak soothingly, offering her the comfort of physical contact not weighted by emotion.  The pattern of her breath changed, and he realized she was crying, finally able to release some toxins in tears.  He laid his cheek against her head and continued to speak softly.  "That's right, let it out.  You're going to be just fine." 

            He let her weep for quite some time with her head on his shoulder, building to a crescendo of wracking sobs, then tapering off to watery sniffles.  Once she had quieted, he asked softly,  "When was the last time you were able to express your own emotions like this, and have someone comfort you?"

            She sat up, wiping at her face with her blanket, and said ruefully, "Oh let's see, I think it was around the twelfth of never."

            He laughed softly, laid a hand on her cheek and wiped the last tears with his thumb.  "So, what caused this warp core breach?"

            She looked down at her hands in her lap again, and he again hooked a finger under her chin and made her look at him.

            "Lieutenant, I can't help you unless you're open with me."

            She seemed to be trying to form words, making gestures with her hands as though she were speaking, then heaved a sigh and said, "I don't know, just… imagining the worst, I guess.  People's reactions to finding out…  I guess I've just dreaded the day I couldn't keep it secret anymore." 

            He took both her hands in his and said, "Tell me."

            "What?"

            "Tell me, " he repeated.  "Every person who crossed your mind, and how you were afraid they would react."  She looked skeptical, and he went on, "This has therapeutic value, I'll explain later.  For now, just tell me what you were afraid would happen."

            She took a deep breath and did so, starting with those under her command in Xeno.  She described her mental pictures of them refusing to speak to her, refusing to follow her orders, whispering disparaging names.  Then of the other heads of science departments with whom she shared a bridge rotation, speaking in hushed voices of no longer trusting her, of not scheduling her any more bridge shifts.  Then of those who had quarters near hers, all asking to be reassigned elsewhere.  Then the Captain…  but here she faltered to a halt.

            The Doctor prompted her to continue.  "The Captain… what?"

            Tears began to flow again.  "She'll take away my command, and my rank, and have me marooned!  Find me an M-class planet and some supplies and say everyone was safer without me on board!"

            The Doctor sighed and pulled her into his arms again.  Her head once again resting on his shoulder, she cried, "What makes you so sure she wouldn't?  She was here before, she was angry, horrified!  I could feel it!"

            "Yes, she was, but not with you!  Tuvok told her his suspicions about the way you've been treated in regards to your ability, and she was furious about that.  Do you understand?  She was angry at whoever made you feel ashamed and fearful about your ability."  He sat back away from her, and gripped her upper arms firmly.  "I must repeat, you have not done anything wrong.  You are not less valuable, less lovable, less human, because of your ability.  Your friends will still love you, your colleagues will still respect you.  No one will think differently about you."

            She shook her head sadly, and he sighed again.  "I have no reservation in saying the Captain considers you a valuable officer under her command, and a vital part of this family.  She would never mistreat you, or even change her opinion of you, because you were born empathic." He folded his arms and affected a mock-stern expression.  "Please don't make me call her down here and tell her you think she's that stupid.  You only think you've felt her anger."

            She gave him a fleeting smile and an if-you-say-so look, and he noticed her eyelids getting heavy.  He asked, "Do you think you can rest now?"

            She nodded, and lay back down.  He drew up a stool and set it beside the bed, near her head.  "If you don't mind, this time I think I'll stay until I know you're asleep."  She drifted off with his hand on her forehead.

 

=/\=

     

            The Doctor walked through the force field into the darkened bio bay around ten hours later, just as Zariel started to stir.  As she opened her eyes, he said cheerily, "Good morning, Lieutenant.  Or should I say good afternoon?"

            She sat up and rubbed her eyes.  "What time is it?"

            "It's 1730 hours."

            She looked slightly horrified, and he said, "No, that was my prescription.  Don't even think of having a problem with it."  He leaned against the edge of the bio bed, and asked, "Would you be willing to have visitors for just a moment?"

            Her eyes grew wide.  "Who?"

            "Your colleagues from Xeno.  At least one of them has been here every hour on the hour since you came in.  There might be a mutiny if I send them away again." His eyes twinkled at her.  "I wonder if this is an appropriate time for me to say 'I told you so?'"  He hovered a finger over the button to release the force field.  "Don't worry, I don't intend to allow them to stay for long.  You and I have some more work to do before I discharge you."

            He hit the button, the force field dissipated, and Wally and Samantha and T'Lin were hovering some distance across sickbay, clearly unsure of how to approach her.

            She clasped her hands together in her lap.  "Hi," she said hesitantly.  "Y'all, I'm so sorry..."

            That was as far as she got before T'Lin held up a hand and Samantha cried, "No, stop it!"

            Wally took a deep breath. "We're the ones that should apologize to you.  We should have seen what was going on with you."

            Samantha said. "Well, we could see that you weren't well, and that it was getting worse, but we didn't know what to do to help.  We made it even worse, dumping all our emotions on you, because you always seem to know exactly what someone else needs…  We didn't know how it was affecting you…" 

            Tears of relief welled in Zariel's eyes.  "How could you know?  I've been keepin' it secret, hard, for pretty much always."  She forced her eyes up from her clasped hands.  "I'm embarrassed to tell y'all how I thought you'd react."

            T'Lin folded her arms.  "Embarrassment is as inappropriate as remorse.  We have been told how your gift was viewed in your family of origin.  Please be aware that we are not so narrow-minded."

            Wally rolled his eyes.  "T'Lin's been especially pissed off about that."

            T'Lin opened her mouth, clearly to correct him about a Vulcan being 'pissed off,' but he waved her down and Samantha overrode them both.  "How could you think we'd care about this more than we care about you?  We know what kind of leader, and what kind of friend, you are.  You being empathic is like you having blue eyes, it's just a characteristic."

            Wally grinned.  "A characteristic that's really cool!" He made to move closer, but Samantha threw an elbow into his ribs and shook her head slightly. 

            Zariel could interpret this, however.  "Don't worry about stayin' out of range or tryin' to control your emotions around me or whatever.  It doesn't work like that. And besides," she said, smiling at them now, "I'm the weird one here, it's my job to deal with this."

            She took a deep breath, deciding it as she said it.  "Commander Tuvok is going to teach me to control it."  Samantha smiled in relief, Wally pumped a fist, and T'Lin raised an eyebrow.

            Zariel was overcome by a rush of affection for the three of them.  She said, "Thank y'all for not treating me like a freak."  She slid down off the bed.  Sam rushed to hug her, and Wally and T'Lin drew close, Wally laying a hand on her shoulder.

 


	10. One Of Tuvok's Problem Children

 

Stardate 50141.7

 

            Taking a deep breath to steady her horribly jangling nerves, Zariel pressed the door chime next to Commander Tuvok's door, just as her chronometer switched over to 1830 hours. Then she held her breath, waiting.

            She didn't have to wait long. The door whooshed open, and Tuvok stood framed in it, dressed in dark, soft clothes, topped by a voluminous tunic with Vulcan sigils embroidered in gold down both lapels. That explained his instructions to attend this lesson in attire she found comfortable, but Zariel had been unable to bring herself to dress in the jeans and t-shirt in which she felt most at ease. Tuvok took in her uniform with a raised eyebrow, and picking up a bag off the floor, he stepped out of his door and past her. He turned to look over his shoulder at her and said, "We will pass your quarters on the way to our destination, Lieutenant, and I will wait outside while you obey my first instruction."  He continued off down the corridor.  Unsure whether to be more or less rattled than before, Zariel followed.

            They did stop at her quarters, and before she could enter, Tuvok stopped her by stepping partially in her way. "The definition of appropriate attire, Lieutenant, is what you are most comfortable wearing." She nodded and went inside, emerging a few moments later, hair loose and swinging around her shoulders, in jeans, moccasins and one of the few things she had brought with her from Earth, a red t-shirt with navy lettering. Tuvok cocked an eyebrow at the lettering, which read _Hotty Toddy_ , but nodded again, and set off.

            She followed him aft, and further aft, and still further, to parts of the ship she had never anticipated seeing, as she knew they were inaccessible when the engines were online. Four Jeffries tubes, three ladders in disparate directions and several narrow catwalks later, they were at the very end of one of the warp nacelles, as far as it was possible to get from other life forms and still be on the same ship.

            Tuvok set down the bag and extracted several large soft cushions. He scattered them on the metal mesh floor of the catwalk, and extended a hand to invite her to sit on one. As she did, he asked, "Am I right, Lieutenant, in assuming that you can no longer sense the emotional emanations of the rest of the crew?"

            She shook her head. "No, sir, I still can. They're just all coming from the same direction now."           

            His eyebrows shot up at that. "Have you experimented with your range before?"

            "No sir, not deliberately. I know it can be… kilometers… for people I can see, even just on a comm screen."

            He sat down facing her. "Since you have been on Voyager, have you encountered any circumstance or situation that did block the emanations?"

            She thought for a moment, and then shook her head, a little wearily. Tuvok might have shuddered slightly. To a being whose mental privacy was sacrosanct, the constant intrusion she was describing was unimaginable. He said, "No matter, it is still well that we begin our work here. If we cannot get away from others entirely, we can at least keep from being surrounded."

            She smiled a bit at that, and he folded his hands in his lap. "First, may I suggest that we address each other by first names, during our sessions?"

            "Yes, sir."

            She felt his raised, wry eyebrow without even having to look up at his face, and said, "Of course call me Zariel, and I'll do my best."

            "Very well. First, I would like you to take a moment to observe this room visually. Notice what is here: structures, colors, shapes, dimensions."

            She did so, calmly, for a few minutes, noting the parallel catwalk above them and the several below, connected by platforms and ladders, the Starfleet standard lettering on anything and everything. Then she looked back up at Tuvok.

            "Excellent," he said. "Now close your eyes." She did so, and he asked, "How many catwalks are in this compartment?"

            "Four."

            "Are they all parallel?"

            "No, the farthest one down connects to an access port that's a little starboard of the others. I think it leads to an engineering access corridor."

            Tuvok continued to question Zariel about the particulars of this odd room, until he finally said, "Excellent, you are quite observant. Keep your eyes closed, if you will. The interior of the mind is simply another environment, but the parameters can be altered. For example, the catwalks in this compartment could all be parallel if you wish them to be. The bulkheads could be a different color, or a different material. Hold your visual image of this room in your mind, for a moment, and then change it however you wish." He sat silent for a moment, allowing her to process, then continued, "Please describe your changes to me."

            "The bulkheads are darker gray, the catwalks are painted blue instead of bare metal, and the catwalk immediately below us also cants inboard."

            "Very good. Hold that image in your mind for a moment, then open your eyes and look at the room."           

            She did, frowning slightly. He directed, "Now close your eyes again and see the room with your changes." She obeyed, concentrating, until he directed her to open her eyes again.

            "That is how one alters the parameters of the interior of the mind. You made a change that contradicted the data from your senses, while shutting off the sense. Now we will make a mental change without shutting off the sensory input."

            Tuvok reached into his bag and produced a metronome. Zariel recognized the device; she had one just like it on her piano at home. Tuvok set it to tap softly at a rate slightly faster than a human heartbeat, then set it on the cushion next to him.

            "Close your eyes again, please." She did, and he went on, "You can hear the metronome clearly?" She nodded. "I wish for you to create a mental image of the sound you are hearing. Sound is a longitudinal wave in a medium. Picture these waves, traveling from the metronome to your ears. Imbue them with color if you wish. Give them a shape. Can you picture them clearly?" She nodded. "Well done. Now, I wish you to create a mental image of a wall. Construct it in your mind. Use the strongest, most impervious, most durable materials you can think of. Make this wall impenetrable, know that it is impenetrable." Zariel frowned in concentration. "Take your time building this wall, be deliberate in each phase of its construction. Leave no weakness in your wall." He waited a moment, then asked, "Do you have your wall complete?" She nodded yet again.

            "Now place your wall between yourself and the sound waves."

            He saw her fists clench and her brows furrow and her shoulders hunch. In her mind, Zariel lifted a wall made of seven layers of diamond plate tritanium and dropped it between herself and the silver corkscrews of sound, and as she did, silence fell. Her eyes flew open, and she said, "No, wait, don't shut it off, let me try again!"

            Tuvok turned his head to look at the metronome, and as Zariel looked also, she saw that it had never ceased its rhythmic clicking. She looked at Tuvok, eyes wide, and he gave her a very approving look in return.

            "Very well done indeed, Zariel."

            A wave of weariness washed over her, so that she swayed a bit where she sat, but she said, "Can I try it again?"

            Tuvok answered, "You may, one more time. This technique is quite energy-intensive at first."

            Zariel closed her eyes, and repeated her mental images, this time dragging the wall into place rather than lifting it. Even so, once she had blocked the sound and kept it blocked for close to thirty seconds, she was exhausted once she opened her eyes. She had to brace herself on her arms to keep from slumping to the catwalk floor, elbows wobbling a bit. Still, she looked up at Tuvok, her eyes alight with discovery, and asked, "Can I try to block the people?"

            "Not until you have rested for a moment.” He steepled his fingers and looked at her appraisingly. “I must caution you first, however, that you must not allow the incoming stimuli to overwhelm your barrier, but rather you must allow it to drop before that happens. Each time your barrier is overcome, it is that much more difficult to create it the next time. Our goal is to develop a barrier you can raise easily and keep in place for extended lengths of time. Pressing your abilities too far initially is counterproductive to this goal.”

            She thought about that for a minute, then said, “That makes sense, I understand. But I’d still like to try it just for a second, just to see if I can do it at all. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be able to do this.”

            Tuvok’s glance was sympathetic. “Agreed, then, you may make the attempt. Do not push too hard, please. Just determine if you can establish the barrier, then let it down.”

            Zariel closed her eyes and concentrated on the emotional emanations of the crew. She took note of the group of sensations, without noting individuals. She defined the emotions she sensed as sounds and colors, turbulent and rapidly changing. She accepted them, saw them, heard them, felt them.

            Then, with a monumental effort, she dragged her wall between them and herself.

            And silence fell.

            Her wall began to wobble and sway almost immediately, and she let it disappear. She opened her eyes to find herself lying on the catwalk floor, with Tuvok leaning over her. She took a few deep breaths, growing more excited with each breath. She pushed herself upright – it took a couple of attempts – to see the very gratified look on Tuvok’s face. “It was quiet! I blocked them! Even if it was just for a second, Tuvok, it was quiet!!”


	11. Live In Concert

 

Stardate 50653.8

 

            Zariel walked into the holodeck at precisely 1830 hours, and tapped a couple of panels to tell the holodeck to give her the music gear she'd been using. She sat on the stool and began to play through the songs they'd decided to play tonight. Wally came in next and programmed up his drum set. He tapped his PADD to show him where she was in the music, and joined her. Samantha and T'Lin also entered, replicated their gear, and jumped in.

            When they finished the song, Zariel sighed and let her arm hang across her guitar. "Y'all, I hope you don't mind, but I asked Tuvok if he wanted to come and listen to us play a couple of songs tonight."

            She didn't see the apprehension, or irritation, she expected on their faces, but she plunged ahead anyway. "I was telling him how much I enjoyed our music, and how much it helped me even before I knew it was helping…"

            Wally snorted. "Relax, it's fine, I asked Ensign Cabot to come listen. She likes drummers." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

            Samantha rolled her eyes at this, then said, "I don't mind either; Neelix said he wanted to hear us play, so I told him he could come around 1930."

            T'Lin said, "It seems we all had the same idea. I was explaining the principles of the guitar to Ensign Vorik, and he expressed a desire to see it played. He intends to join us at approximately 1930 as well."

            Zariel sighed gustily, slid down off her stool, and looked around at them. "Sweet mercy, people. This is changin' from therapy into a concert, fast. Maybe we should replicate them some chairs or somethin'?"

 

=/\=

 

            Captain Janeway came with Tuvok, Vorik brought B'Elanna Torres him, Ensign Cabot brought a friend as well, and Neelix came in with Kes in tow. They made themselves at home, ordering up some more chairs and arranging them. Once they all settled down, Zariel noticed her bandmates and the guests looking at her as though waiting for her to say something.

            Thinking she'd have plenty to say to her crew for putting her on the spot like this, Zariel addressed their impromptu audience.

            "Welcome, y'all. Our li'l band here –" she indicated her crew with one hand, "-kinda got started when Sam caught me humming a song she knew. I told her I used to sing it to my children, and in return she taught me a song her mama used to sing to her. Then we found out that Wally and T'Lin also love pre-warp era music, and so… Well, this set is songs about what we believe." They smiled in response, so she continued, "Yeah, there's some coffee in the back, help yourselves.   Here we go."

            They played and were well regarded, and ended, upon Neelix's hollered request from the back row, with the song that had begun it, the 21st century toast to a group of friends that had been Zariel's sons' lullabye in what seemed another life.


	12. New Ground

 

Stardate 50968.2

 

            Zariel gathered up several PADDs and said, "Well, y'all, here I go." Wally gave her a thumbs up and Samantha and T'Lin encouraging nods, as she left for her meeting with the Captain. Zariel nearly walked into B'Elanna at one point in the corridor, not looking where she was going, frantically rehearsing her presentation in her head. They both said, "Sorry, Lieutenant," at the exact same time, then both grinned and continued on their way.

            Zariel went into the bridge conference room to find Captain Janeway already there, sitting on one of the long sides of the table. She indicated a seat next to her and said, "Well, Lieutenant, your idea sounds fascinating. I can't wait to hear more about it."

            Zariel sat and spread out her documents on the table in front of her, and launched into her spiel. The plan would involve an almost instantaneous way for each bridge station to have access to pertinent information regarding events as they developed, courtesy of a computer algorithm that would monitor bridge operations, cross-reference with data stored in the ship's database and present pertinent information automatically in real time. As Zariel went through her plan, the Captain began nodding, emanating excitement about the possibilities. Zariel finished, and Captain Janeway said, "Lieutenant, this is extremely promising. Permission granted to implement the retrofit at the science station, and beta-test the system."

            "Thank you, Captain, we'll get right on that."

            The captain leaned back in her chair. "Was this your idea, Lieutenant?"

            "Not entirely, Captain, a bunch of us worked on it. Not just Xeno, but a couple of folks from Engineering too." Zariel glanced sideways at the captain. "If you'd hated it, though, it would have been all me."

            Janeway laughed, and Zariel began gathering her PADDs and preparing to depart, but the captain laid a hand on her arm. "A moment, Lieutenant Sindile. Now I have a proposal for you."

            "Yes, ma'am?"

            Janeway folded her hands on the table. "Tuvok advises me that your studies with him are progressing extremely well."

            Zariel folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. "He's an able instructor, Captain, and I'm a… motivated… student, if nothing else." She looked up abruptly, and said, "Captain, I haven't had the opportunity to apologize to you, I…"

            The captain raised a hand to stop her. "And you won’t have that opportunity. There’s nothing to apologize for, and I don't want to hear that again. Understood?"

            Meekly, she answered, "Yes, ma'am."

            "Tell me about your training with Tuvok."

            "Well, Captain, we've gotten to where I can block out everything pretty reliably. We've been pushing that by having me block more people at closer range, for longer periods of time. Next, I'll start learning how to open to people selectively, to pick out just one voice. Tuvok tells me that'll be more challenging."

            "Well, Lieutenant, I'm delighted to hear of your success. Let me ask you this: would you feel less ambivalent about your ability if you could use it in an official shipboard capacity?"

            "Yes, ma'am, I guess I would." She looked down again. "It would make up for a lot."

            Captain Janeway laid her hand on Zariel's arm again, sympathy in her eyes. "Then if you're interested, and if you and Tuvok can convince me it would be safe for you, I was wondering if you'd like to train in first contact protocol and conflict diplomacy."

            Zariel's eyes went wide and flew to meet the captain's. "Really, Captain? Yes, of course I would! That's…"

            Janeway leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. "Let me be quite clear, Lieutenant. Your safety is paramount. We will proceed with this only if I'm certain it won't be harmful to you."

            "Of course, Captain." Her eyes slid off into the distance, thinking. "I could provide you immediate feedback during a first contact encounter, I could sense deception or apprehension, I could…" As she was speaking, her hands began to move absently, forming words in sign language, tracking with what she was saying. She blinked in surprise and refocused, however, when the captain began speaking the words she was signing. "You know ASL, Captain?"

            "Yes, I’ve studied it. How do you know it?"

            "My cousin was born hearing-impaired, and the defect couldn't be corrected until he was done growing. The whole family signs. It's actually kind of fun to be able to converse clear across a baseball field, or right under somebody’s nose." She grinned, and Janeway smiled back. "Thank you, Captain, I can't tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity." She swept her devices together, stood up and said, "If I may, Captain? I find I have considerable new work to attend to."

            Janeway gave her an approving smile. "Dismissed, Lieutenant Sindile."


	13. "Message In A Bottle"

 

Stardate 51462.5

 

            "And Starfleet Command will be notifying all of our families that we're alive and well." The captain paused a moment, then said, "And they had a message for Voyager; that we're no longer alone." She paused again, then the shipboard announcement ended with, "Carry on."

            Twelve decks down in Xeno, Zariel's mind filled instantly with her boys' faces, the sound of their laughter, the feel of her arms around them, the smell of the loud cologne preferred by sweaty teenage baseball players. She turned her chair around slowly. Wally was already rising to his feet. "Really?" he whispered. "Really? It worked?"

            Zariel got to her feet as well, slowly. The expression on Wally’s face was morphing from disbelief to delight. “They know we’re okay. My folks, they know I’m okay!”

            Zariel looked down at her hands, watched them tremble for a moment. Her children had never seemed closer since she had left for Deep Space Nine, and yet never farther away. Had they accepted her death, moved on? What would this news do to them? Would it tear open wounds long healed, or would it be a comfort? Would it make any difference to them, dead or a galaxy away? Did they resent her so for leaving that they wouldn't even care? Dear God, she didn’t even know for sure where they were, what they were doing. Did Patrick go on to college, despite his ambivalence, did he decide on a major? Was Michael still playing baseball, still ducking his talent for the guitar? Would there ever be any way to know? Her head spun, unable to formulate a coherent mental picture of her children’s lives in order to imagine this news in context.

            Wally was shouting in delight, half in Standard and half in Italian, and Zariel was happy that he was happy, but her head continued to spin with questions as the door whooshed open. Samantha charged in, and grabbed Wally in a giant hug. They shouted incoherent and happy things at each other for a moment, then both noticed Zariel, who was still standing with her hand on the center console for support.

            “Zariel? You okay?” Samantha asked. No answer.

            “Zariel?” said Wally.

            She blinked and refocused. “Sorry, y’all, yeah, I’m okay. I was just… just thinking about my boys, I guess. How this news will affect them.”

            “Good grief, I’m still working out how it affects me, and she’s worrying about ramifications sixty thousand light years away.” Wally rolled his eyes. “Is this a mom thing?”

            Zariel steepled her fingers, as they'd all seen Tuvok and T'Lin do. "I guess so. I was just wondering whether this will be easier or harder for them." Wally looked a bit stunned at this, so she tried to explain. "I mean, if we're dead, our people can accept that and move on." She pressed her upraised fingers against her lips for a moment. "If we're alive in the Delta Quadrant, they never get to put anything behind them. They don't have anything but uncertainty." She finally met their eyes. "Is that really any better for them? I mean, it's not likely we'll ever get home."

            Samantha had come closer while Zariel was speaking, and now she slid an arm around Zariel's shoulders. Zariel bowed her head and pressed her fingers against her mouth again.

            "How am I feeling about this news?" she asked.

            Before Zariel could react, Sam answered herself. "You don't know, do you? Because you have your barrier up, right?"

            Samantha stepped back to look in Zariel's face. "In fact, you put the whole ship on mute as soon as this news hit the wire, didn't you?" Zariel nodded. "Of course you did. That's not very likely, is it?   When we left home, you didn't even know that could be done."

            Sam propped her fists on her hips. "You stand there doing something you always thought was impossible, and you're talking about what's 'likely?' We've all accomplished unlikely things on Voyager, what's one more? Getting home isn't unlikely for this ship!"

            Zariel laughed a bit unsteadily at this, and hugged Samantha. Wally folded his arms in mock rebuke.

            "You know, Zariel, you really make me feel bad. Everyone else is celebrating for themselves, and you think of your kids first. I'd say that's gotta be a mom thing, but you do everyone that way."

            At this, she grinned at him. “No, it is a mom thing, and believe me, there's no way in the universe to mute that.”


	14. Alpha Quadrant

 

Stardate 51482.3

 

            Michael Sindile had the hammer down, and he made the sixty minute drive from his great-grandparents' house to the Ole Miss campus in forty-five minutes, his mind still reeling.  He had still been at home rather than at school, because he had first block off, one of the perks of senior year, when the call had come in from Starfleet Headquarters.  He had had to ask the pretty Betazoid lady to repeat her news three times before it sank in, which she had obligingly done, her bottomless dark eyes kind. After she'd disconnected, he had tried every possible way to contact Patrick, but then remembered that his brother had the last of his semester exams that morning, and would have deactivated all his comms.  Michael had then scrawled a note for his Mamaw that merely read, _Gone to Oxford, will call_ , and torn out of the driveway as though the Jem'Hadar were chasing him.

            The entire way to Oxford he desperately tried to remember which of his brother's classes might be testing today, and which building they might be in.  Coming up blank, he finally just screeched into a satellite parking lot, whipped into a parking space, dove out of his truck and pelted as fast as he could to his brother's room in the dorm. After pounding on Patrick's door and hollering for a time and deciding that Patrick was not just ignoring him, he tore off to the center of campus. He vaguely remembered that Patrick would have some classes in the psychology building, and some in the biology building, so for half an hour he frenetically paced a route that would allow him to watch the egress from both Peabody and Coulter, as well as the sidewalk leading to Patrick's dorm. 

            On one of his turns past the Union, however, he finally spotted Patrick, in the middle of a group of his friends, heading that direction.  Michael began yelling while they were still at least fifty meters away.  "Voyager called!  I mean Starfleet called!  I mean, this lady from Starfleet called, she said they heard from Voyager!  They sent their doctor to the Romulan border!"

            Patrick stopped in front of Michael, and said, "You are not makin' a lick of sense.  Why aren't you at school?"

            Michael was still in warp drive.  "They heard from Voyager!!"

            Whatever Patrick had been expecting to hear on the repeat, it wasn't that.  His mouth dropped open in shock.  "What?  Slow it down, man.  What are you talking about?"

            Michael took a deep breath.  "Okay.  I was just about to leave for second block, and a lady from the Bureau of Starfleet Personnel called.  She asked if I was a relative of Zariel Sindile, and I said I was her son, and she told me!  Voyager found this communications relay that reached all the way here, and they couldn't get a transmission through it, but they could get a holographic subroutine through, so they sent their EMH to this Starfleet ship near the Romulan border, and he called Starfleet Command." He'd managed to start out slowly enough, but by the end of this second recap, he was back in warp drive.

            Things still weren't registering for Patrick.  "All the way here from where?  The Romulan border??"

            "No, dammit, from the Delta quadrant!"

            "Who's in the Delta quadrant?"

            "VOYAGER  IS!!  Listen to me, Patrick!  Voyager's alive!  It wasn't destroyed in the Badlands, it was transported to the Delta quadrant along with the Maquis ship they were looking for!  They've been alive this whole time, trying to get home, trying to communicate with us!  Do you get it now?  Voyager's alive.  Mom. Is alive."

            While they were talking, Patrick's friends had surrounded them to listen.  A couple of girls gasped out loud.  Several kids had pulled out comm devices and were sending messages. One guy had taken off at a dead run in the direction of the dorms.

            Patrick stared at his little brother for a moment, hope and disbelief chasing each other across his face.  "You little shit, if you're screwing with me, I swear I will rip your head off and drag the rest of your corpse bleeding through the Grove."

            "I swear I'm not!  Starfleet called this morning!  Voyager wasn't lost!  I mean, they are lost, they're stuck in the Delta quadrant, but they're alive!"

            Patrick bent over, his hands on his knees, and his roommate laid a hand on his back.  After a couple of deep breaths, he stood up slowly and said, "All right, let's have it all.  Slowly, and in order."

            As Michael began to recount what he had learned, struggling mightily to keep calm and tell it rationally, a great many other students joined the group surrounding them.  By the time he finished, the group had become a crowd, at least ten deep on all sides.  What appeared to be all of the other athletic managers had packed in behind Patrick, and a steady stream of girls flowed up the sidewalk from Sorority Row.  People poured out of the Union, seeing the growing crowd.  In the silence that fell as Michael finished his account, the brothers could hear the whispers working their way throughout the crowd.

            "...Voyager…"

            "…heard from Voyager…"

            "…alive…"

            "…Delta quadrant…"

            "…the Voyager boys, their mom…"

            "…Ole Miss alum…"

            "…Voyager…"

            "…alive…"

            Slowly, the whispers died away, and the silence was complete for a moment.  Michael whispered, "Can it be real, Pat?  Can she really be alive?"

            Patrick took two sudden steps forward and flung his arms around his little brother.  Soon they were shouting and pounding each other on the back as the crowd erupted into cheers and tears and flooded in around them.  Before the brothers entirely knew what was happening, they had each been hoisted onto people's shoulders and were being carried around the campus.  More and more people ran up, asking what was going on, and attempts to explain soon became a rhythmic chant of "Voyager! Voyager! Voyager!" that echoed between the venerable white-columned buildings.

            By the time the crowd had made its way back to the Grove, it had grown past the definition of a mob, past a demonstration, past riot and was nearing the size of a southern sporting event, now comprising just about every student who'd been on campus, quite a number who had come in response to the news, and most of the faculty.  The brothers were deposited on the edge of the permanent stage in the Grove, and one young engineering student, who had thought to grab a voice amplifier, elbowed his way forward and passed it up to Patrick. At the same time, Michael pulled out his comm and began taking video of the crowd, thinking he’d send it to Mom, then blinked, mildly shocked at how little time it had taken for that impulse to seem normal.

            Patrick was overwhelmed all over again by the love and pride that Ole Miss had for its own.  His education, and his brother's as well, were being funded by the University as a memorial to their mother, the Rebel who had attained the standards of Starfleet and then been lost with Voyager.  But seeing this demonstration from his fellow students, no more than a tenth of whom could possibly know him personally, was something else completely.  This was why this place had become his home, when his own had fallen apart.  He flipped on the amplifier, and took a deep breath.  "The Rebel Nation got some good news today!"

            The crowd erupted again.  Patrick let them quiet a bit, then went on, "Our mom is a Starfleet officer, and four years ago her ship was thought to have been lost.  This morning, Starfleet Command informed us that Voyager is alive and well, and on her way home!"  More cheering, hugging, fists raised in the air.  "They're still sixty thousand light years away, they've got a long way to go.  But they're working on ways to shorten the trip, and Starfleet is too.  I'm willing to bet that they'll make it.  I mean, they've got a Rebel aboard, after all, and she's got a Nation to come home to!"  The crowd pressed against the stage now, shouting and stamping and clapping.  Patrick cast his mind frantically about for a moment, then hit on the perfect way to end this impromptu address.  "On behalf of Lieutenant Zariel Sindile, B.A., class of '51, I got a question for y'all.  ARE YOU READY?!?"

            The Rebels answered with their well-known, well-loved response, and the volume was later found to have registered as a seismic event as far away as Baton Rouge.

 


	15. "Hunters"

 

Stardate 51501.4

 

            Zariel grinned her thanks at Neelix as he left Xeno, having dropped off letters from home for her, Samantha, Wally and T'Lin. She hugged the mini PADDs to her chest for a moment, her eyes bright and distant. Then she hit a panel on the center console, activating a function they'd set up some time ago: a summons for all Xeno personnel to report.

            They came in one at a time, asking questions, but she merely smiled and shook her head until they were all there. Then she produced the PADDs from behind her back, and held them out. "We all got letters from home!"

            Sam squealed, Wally shouted, and T'Lin's eyebrows shot upward. As one they darted forward to seize the letters.

            Zariel grinned; it was like Christmas morning in here. She said, "Enjoy, y'all," and headed towards the door, intent on going to her quarters to read her letter.

            "Hold it there, where do you think you're going?" Wally's voice stopped her.

            Zariel pointed vaguely toward the door, but he said, "Let's read them together."

            Samantha said, "Yes, let's do. Good news or bad, we'll share."

            Wally and Sam looked at T'Lin for agreement, and she nodded.   The three of them turned to Zariel, and Wally said, "Come on now, all for one and all that. Let's read, and then tell each other what's going on at home."

            Zariel grinned and nodded, and pushed her chair around and sat down in it. "All for one, then. Now hush, y'all, I'm tryin' to read."

            They all flopped down in their chairs and turned full attention to the letters, to those green characters on black screens that were lifelines as much as letters.

            Zariel seemed to have two letters, one from Patrick and one from Michael. She tapped the one from Patrick first.

 

Dear Mom,

            Hi and Hotty Toddy! I'm two weeks into my last semester of college, can you believe that? In May I'll finish my psychology degree and in August I'll start law school. Yeah, I know, I always said I'd never be a lawyer like Papaw, but it kind of snuck up on me. So I'll give it a shot and see what happens. You should have seen the reaction on campus when we heard about Voyager – the place just totally erupted. I started a Hotty Toddy for you in absentia. Not much space left, get home as quick as you can. I know, I know, you're already there.

 

Dear Mom,

            Hi, how are you? I'm glad you're ok and Voyager is coming home. School is fine, baseball is fine. We won the state championship last year. I started in left for the varsity. I still take guitar lessons. Come home soon.

 

            She read the letters each three times, so characteristic of her boys, feeling as if she could almost reach through the PADD's screen and touch her boys, lay a hand on their faces and ruffle their hair. She could hear their voices, feel their hugs. Memories flooded her mind. She gently laid her fingers on the screen and kept very still for a moment, determined not to cry.

            After a few deep breaths, she looked around Xeno. T'Lin was sitting very still as well, staring across at the opposite wall, her letter lying in her lap. Samantha was still looking at her letter, tears streaming unashamedly down her face. Wally was gazing up at the ceiling, and his eyes looked suspiciously moist as well. He looked across at her and sniffed unconvincingly, "Got something in my eye."

            Zariel snorted laughter, and T'Lin and Samantha looked at her as well. She spread her hands and said, "Well, what's the word from home?"

 

            Wally's parents had been overjoyed to hear from Voyager, and had hosted a celebration which disrupted the city of Rome for three days. His entire family was well, his cousin had gotten married, and they expressed best wishes for his safe return.

            T'Lin, the youngest of four sisters, had more varied news. Her closest sister had been promoted at her job, moving from T'Ling'Shar to Shi'Kahr. Her next sister had been honored for her research on Hephaestus fever. Her oldest sister, however, had lost a child to stillbirth, and was recovering slowly.

            Samantha's was a love letter to her and her daughter, words abbreviated and vowels omitted in order to cram as much adoration as possible into the limited space each letter was allowed. Zariel struggled again to keep from tears as Sam read it aloud.

            Zariel got up and walked over to Sam, holding out her hands. Samantha grasped her hands and stood up as well, reaching a hand out to Wally. He cocked his head at T'Lin, who stood as well, completing their circle. Zariel looked around at them and opened her barrier to them, ever so slightly. Their emotions mirrored hers, a sense of renewed connection and of hope, and gratitude for the connection the four of them were sharing on their way home.


	16. Play Ball!

 

Stardate 51654.8

 

            Zariel pulled on her baseball cap and slid her braid through the back, grinning an excited little grin, as she approached the entry to Holodeck Two. She'd been looking forward to this. Tapping the panel outside the door, she said, "Computer, run program Rebel Baseball."

            "That program is currently in progress."

            Zariel frowned, then stepped in front of the door. It whished open, and she walked inside to see her re-creation of Swayze Field. She walked through the tunnel to the field. Standing near the plate was Tom Paris, with a bucket of baseballs on the ground beside him and a fungo bat in his hand, and in shallow center, Harry Kim, a frustrated look on his face and a scattering of baseballs on the ground behind him. Tom was saying, "Harry, close your fingers, then cover your glove with your right hand."

            They turned at her approach, and she said, "Keep your thumb under the ball." She held up her own hand to demonstrate, then held out both hands in a "carry on" gesture. Tom hit three more balls to Harry, who caught them all. Zariel grinned at him, then said, "Y'all the ones been playing my baseball simulation? I wondered why I had to keep resettin' it."

            Tom said, surprised, "This is yours? I thought this was a pre-loaded program."

            "No, this one's mine. You can tell by how this one actually knows the rules of the game." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, gentlemen, it's 1800 hours.   My holodeck." She walked into the dugout, selected a bat, slung it over her shoulder and strode to the plate. "Unless you boys think you can play with the big girls."

 

=/\=

 

            Two hours later, they had gotten Harry to reliably field routine grounders and fly balls, and tried him out in various positions on the field, discovering that he was in fact an outfielder. At the plate, however, he was discovering that merely being an athlete didn't make one a baseball player and that Parisses Squares skills didn't necessarily carry over. Harry would need some work at the plate.

            Tom was a middle infielder, it turned out. During his batting practice, Zariel fixed a hitch in his swing that left him vulnerable to an outside breaking pitch. Tom, unlike Harry, had played quite a bit of baseball before, and just needed to knock the dust off his skills.

            Sweaty, tired, and dirty, the three of them flopped on the bench in the home dugout. Zariel tugged her cap off and rubbed her forearm across her face.

            Harry stretched his arms over his head. "I'm going to be sore tomorrow."

            Tom looked over at Zariel. "Lieutenant, how often do you play this program?"

            "Whenever I can get the holodeck time. My boys are both ball players, and I spent a lot of time in the stands. It's great to be out on the field again myself." She leaned back against the dugout wall. "And on the ball field, it's Zariel. Or Zee."

            Harry asked, "Can we play this with you again?"

            "Absolutely," she said. "We can pool our holodeck time." They smiled, and she said, "Look, between the three of us, we've got a pretty decent middle of the field. Do y'all know anybody else who might want to play?"

 

=/\=

 

 

            After a few more holodeck sessions, the team had grown quite a bit. Between the three of them, they'd recruited Chakotay to play catcher, Mandy Chamberlin in right field, Ensign Gallagher at third base, Phil Jacobson at first base, Ensign Mulcahey in left field, and Crewman Swift to pitch.

            Most interesting of all, however, was one other who had come to the tryout they'd held. Tuvok stood at the side of the field watching, until Zariel approached him and asked, half-joking, "Any position look interesting to you?"

            She fully expected some clinical Vulcan query about the possible point of this activity, but Tuvok pointed out to the mound, where Swift was warming up his fastball, and then his fastball, and just to shake things up, his fastball. Anyone who could catch up to it was going to put it over the fence. "I believe that if one were to vary the trajectory of the ball sufficiently, it would make it more difficult for the batter to hit it."

            Zariel looked at him blankly for a moment, head to one side, then lifted the whistle that hung on a cord around her neck and blew a blast on it. She turned and shouted towards the mound, "New pitcher!"

 


	17. Lessons

 

Stardate 51656.6

 

            Zariel walked up to the door of Tuvok's quarters and pressed the chime precisely at 1930 hours. She shook her long hair back as Tuvok opened the door, but rather than beckoning her inside this time, he stepped out into the corridor and said, "Follow me, please." Shrugging, she did so.

            It didn't take her long to figure out where he was going, and she smiled to herself as she did. He led her into the turbolift and then out again on Deck 3, and directly toward Zariel's infamous little cubbyhole. He stopped in the hallway, as though he was about to point out the little place, but she shot him a smug look, enjoying the rare chance to outdo her teacher, and stepped past him into the invisible space. He followed her inside, a quizzical look on his face.

            "You were aware of this place?" he asked.

            She turned and looked at him steadily. "Yes I was, too much so. I used to come here and just sit for hours, watching the stars streak by. It was what passed for managing my empathic sense back then."

            Tuvok indicated that they should sit on the floor, and continued, "This is perhaps not an ideal location for that purpose, Zariel. There are cabins all around you and the mess hall immediately above you. Here you are nothing if not surrounded."

            She smiled a bit, wryly. "No kidding. Well, this ship isn't big enough for me to actually get away from everybody. Anyway, back then it was more about…"

            She trailed off, and he prompted, "About…?"

            "I would lean against this bulkhead right here," she slapped it with her hand, "as hard as I could. Like I was pushing the ship home faster. Yeah, I know, not the best coping mechanism." She made a rueful face, a little sad at how ridiculous it seemed now.

            Tuvok was gazing at her intently, fingers steepled in contemplation, and he said, "Zariel, please make a mental note of coping mechanisms. We will return to that in a moment."

            Zariel nodded a little warily, and he continued, "You have learned how to reliably block stimuli from the outside and how to receive only the emanations you wish. This next technique will teach you how to maintain your mental shield despite distractions from the inside."

            "The inside?"

            "Yes. One's mental barrier is more difficult to maintain in times of heightened stress or distraction. I'm sure you have noticed."

            "To a degree, but I'm so glad to be able to do it that I don't really care."

            Tuvok tilted his head in acknowledgement of this, but went on, "However, our next step involves securing one's mental barrier against one's own mental turmoil. However, prior to beginning this instruction, which will be rather intense, I must teach you a… coping mechanism, if you will."

            Tuvok invited her to stretch out on the floor and be comfortable. As she did so, he said, "This technique translates from Vulcan as 'place of refuge.' It involves creating a location within the mind where one can seek solace and solitude, regardless of one's outer environment."

            Zariel gave the most minute snort of laughter, and said, "Find a happy place."

            Tuvok gave the lift of gaze and eyebrows she had come to understand meant the same as a roll of the eyes, but answered, "Essentially correct, however, the Vulcan technique is more effective. Please close your eyes and focus only on my voice."

            Over the next while, Tuvok walked Zariel through how to find a happy place in the Vulcan manner. She carefully constructed in her mind the environment she found most peaceful, most nurturing, and secured its borders against intrusion. She smiled at Tuvok when this was complete, well pleased with her refuge. When they had finished, Tuvok beckoned her to sit up again and she leaned against the wall, ready for more.

            "Now, Zariel, we begin what will be a difficult lesson. Its purpose is twofold, for you to learn to secure your barrier from the inside, as I said, and for me to ascertain what remains to be done as regards your training."

            She nodded, a little more warily, but had learned to trust Tuvok this far. He continued, "Here is the utility of the refuge technique: should your mental shield become unstable due to the stimuli we are about to evoke, you are to inform me and go to your refuge. As with stimuli from outside, you must not let your barrier be overwhelmed, but must take sanctuary before that happens."

            Zariel took several deep breaths, and said, "Ready. Let's do this."

            After his usual warning against her tendency to go too hard at first, he said, "Let us return to your comment regarding coping mechanisms. Please tell me about sitting in this space."

            She did so, relating how she'd sat hours in here and how the comfort grew ever more elusive. Then, as he questioned, she told about isolating from others when she got overwhelmed, in the days before Voyager. Then, a bit more hesitantly, she told of having few resources available to her as a child. Not able to shut out the cacophony and not permitted to leave, she told of difficult times at school. She spoke of being a small child and running away from those who insisted on pressing their emotions on her, of clapping her hands over her ears and screaming in an attempt to silence the mental noise.

            "To be fair, my parents must have thought I was a complete lunatic."

            Tuvok gave her an interrogative tilt of his head, asking if her mental shield was still stable, and she nodded.

            "But their response was not to obtain any training or assistance for you?" Tuvok had been dreading this conversation, as much as a Vulcan can, and took a deep breath to ensure that his face and voice betrayed no trace of the anger he experienced on her behalf.

            "Nah, they had no idea what to do. Also, I guess they thought if they made the consequences dire enough, I'd get motivated to control it." She shrugged a bit. "Honestly, I didn't know what to do either, so it's not like I could tell them that blaming and threatening wasn't accomplishing anything."

            She opened her shield to Tuvok, ever so slightly, and 'listened' hard, as she had to do with T'Lin, and discovered that the anger was giving way to incredulity. Hastily closing the barrier, she tucked back the wisps of hair that trailed around her face. "Really, Tuvok, it is what it is. Besides, it's not like I can go back in time and change it."

            "Then allow me to pose this question: if Patrick or Michael had been born with some difference that made it difficult for them to interact with the world, how would you, his mother, have treated him?"

            Tuvok had meant to provoke her with this, but he had not anticipated her reaction. It was as though someone had swung a heavy weight into her abdomen. She leaned forward slightly, struggling to breathe, hands fluttering at her throat. Tuvok was at her side in a second, saying, "Your refuge, quickly!"

            But her eyes had already closed and her breathing had eased; she had remembered her lesson. She sat, back against the wall, eyes closed, tension easing with every breath, for a solid five minutes before she opened her eyes and returned to where Tuvok was.

            Tuvok steepled his fingers and pressed them against his lips for a moment. "Zariel, I must apologize. I was trying to elicit a reaction, but I did not expect such an intense one."

            She shook her head. "No, it's fine. I had just never thought of it like that."

            "What about your barrier?"

            She appeared to listen for a moment. "It stayed up," she said, a faint note of surprise in her voice. "What do you know."

            Tuvok blinked, his version of surprise. "Very, very well done indeed. However, despite the magnitude of this accomplishment, I think it is time to end today's session."

            She nodded, a little tiredly, and he continued, "I see we have a great deal more work to do regarding your family of origin, and as we do, you will have the opportunity to practice and refine your new technique."

            She dug her fingertips into her forehead. "Yeah, I'd like to be able to do it consciously and not just hope it happens right."

            "Before we adjourn, let me emphasize again the magnitude of this accomplishment. The place of refuge is an extremely difficult technique, and some Vulcans never master it entirely, never become reliably able to protect the interior of their mental shields. Also, I would like to draw your attention to two items of interest. First, I would like you to reflect on the sensations you experienced as you used this technique. I realize it happened… rapidly, but please make the attempt."

            "Got it." She gave him a small mock salute, smiling.

            "And secondly, I would like you to consider your new insight. How, and why, does realizing you would not treat your children as you were treated, change your perspective?"

            "Yes, sir." She took a fast, hard breath. "I definitely will."

            "Lastly, a suggestion. We will be dealing with memories that you may find… uncomfortable… to relate aloud to me. If you would consent to a mind meld, I could access those memories. In effect, you could show them to me, rather than having to tell me."

            Zariel laughed nervously, mostly to cover the feelings this suggestion engendered. "I don't think so, Tuvok."

            Tuvok opened his mouth to argue, but she shook her head. "The inside of my head is not a pleasant place." She tapped the side of her head with one finger. "Trust me, sir, you wouldn't last five minutes in here."


	18. First First Contact

 

Stardate 51771.3

 

            "Captain, I'm detecting a warp signature off to port." Tom announced from the helm station.

            The Captain swung her feet down from where she'd had them tucked up underneath her in the Captain's chair, and said, "I thought there weren't any warp-capable civilizations in this sector."

            "There aren't supposed to be, Captain," Tom answered. "They're only going Warp 1.5."

            "Mr. Paris, take us out of warp. Let's see who's here."

            Harry had been doing analysis on the little warp ship on the viewscreen since Tom detected it, and now he said, "Captain, it appears to be a very rudimentary warp vessel. It's possible that's its top speed."

            Tom announced from the helm, "They're dropping out of warp too, Captain."

            The Captain pointed at the viewscreen. "Mr. Paris, hold us a fair distance off their starboard bow." Tom tapped panels to comply.

            The two ships sat that way for a long moment, each member of the bridge crew a bit startled at how much the little ship resembled the first human warp vessel, until Harry called out, "They're hailing, Captain."

            The Captain nodded at Zariel, over at the science station, who nodded back and set up a relay to the screen at her station, as the Captain answered Harry, "On screen."

            Three men appeared on the screen, each dark of hair, skin and eye, and each possessed of varying degrees of vertical ridges on forehead and cheekbones.

            The Captain rose and walked to stand in the center of the bridge. "I am Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the Federation starship Voyager."

            The pilot of the warp ship, sitting closest to the viewscreen, smiled at them, as did the one behind him on the right. The one on the left, however, maintained an impassive look. The one on the right spoke to the Captain. "Greetings, Captain, I am Captain Sirek, of the Septri Prime warp ship Phoenix. We are conducting the first tests of this vessel, and this propulsion system."

            Captain Janeway's megawatt smile spread across her face. "My people's first warp vessel was also called the Phoenix."

            Captain Sirek's face lit up in delight. "Is that so? How long ago was that?"

            "More than three hundred years."

            His eyes widened. "Had a bit of time to work on it, then. What's your ship's top speed?"

            Captain Janeway looked over her shoulder at Tuvok, who answered, "Voyager can reach a sustainable cruise velocity of Warp Factor 9.975."

            Captain Janeway turned back to Captain Sirek. "A direct result of our Phoenix's first flight was that my people made first contact with Lt. Commander Tuvok's people. We have been close allies ever since."

            Captain Sirek smiled. "It seems our first flight has had similar positive results, Captain. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

            The two captains continued to exchange pleasantries, introducing their bridge crews to each other. Zariel, watching from the science station, opened her shield to each of the Septrins in turn. Captain Sirek was delighted at their ship's success, and eager to greet whomever they might find "out here." Lieutenant Kegan, the pilot, was feeling a bit of unreality, almost unable to convince himself they'd actually succeeded, which was rapidly turning to elation. Commander Ovak, in back on the left, however…

            Zariel quickly got up, snagging a PADD from her station as she went, and moved to the console directly behind the Captain and Chakotay's seats, to get a better view of him. There she pretended to tap panels for a moment, while opening more fully to the man who had not participated in the conversation at all. He was feeling anger, and regret, and apprehension, and was clearly building up his resolve to do something…

            Zariel 'listened' to him for only another moment, then bolted across the bridge and down to a place in front of the engineering station, where she knew Captain Janeway could see her, but those on the viewscreen could not. Once there, she began rapidly signing to her Captain. _Watch the Commander, he doesn't want them out here, he's going to do something, watch the Commander, he doesn't want them out here…_

            Captain Janeway's eyes flicked to Zariel, then moved back to the screen, but Zariel could tell her Captain was still 'listening' to her out of her peripheral vision. As Zariel continued to sign, _he's decided to do it, whatever it is, he's worked up the courage_ , Captain Janeway saw one of the Commander's hands begin to move slowly toward the underside of a panel beside him.

            _You've got to do something, he's prepared to die doing whatever it is…_

            Captain Janeway interrupted Captain Sirek to ask, "Might I ask what Commander Ovak is doing?"

            Captain Sirek looked, and Lieutenant Kegan also turned to look, as Ovak pulled a small gray box out from under the console and held a finger over the panel. Kegan blurted, "That's a detonator, Captain!"

            Ovak glared at his own Captain, and then at Captain Janeway on the viewscreen. "That's right, it is. There's enough explosive in the spare cryo tank to destroy this ship and our new friends here too. If this ship is destroyed, then our people will think that warp drive doesn't work, and they won't try again. Our people don't belong out here!"

            Captain Sirek seemed to have been stunned into immobility, but Captain Janeway took a step forward and laid a hand on the bridge railing. "Why do you say that, Commander?"

            The benign question, however, set him off completely, railing and shouting. Captain Janeway's diplomacy skills were put to the test as she continued to speak calmly, trying to elicit some reason from him.

           After a moment, a message came up on the PADD Zariel had dropped at her feet, from Harry at the Ops station. _We can beam the explosives out into space on wide dispersal. Tell the Captain._

           Zariel waited to ensure that her Captain was picking her up again, then signed this to her.

           Captain Janeway covered her response with a slight break in the conversation with Ovak, shooting Zariel a look and a very surreptitious signing of the words ‘do it.’ Zariel waved at Harry to get his attention and pointed a go. Harry tapped a few panels and after a moment her PADD showed the message from him: ‘Done.’ Zariel shot the Captain a double thumbs-up.

            Ovak had had enough by this point; he raised the detonator and shouted, "No more! We don't belong out here! Warp drive will never happen!" He jammed a finger on the detonator.

            Nothing happened.

            Captain Janeway put her hands on her hips and spoke in an icy tone, much different from her earlier soothing, as Ovak jabbed the button repeatedly. "We have removed and destroyed your explosives. If you wish to influence your planet's policy on space exploration, you'll have to do it in a manner that doesn't endanger any lives."

            They watched on the viewscreen as Kegan, the pilot, lurched up from his chair and grabbed some adhesive repair strips, then wound them around Ovak's hands and arms, tying him to his chair. Once done, he flopped back into his own chair and gave the Voyager crew a sheepish look.

            Captain Sirek said, "I must apologize, Captain, I had no idea that our success would endanger your ship as well. Please, allow me to invite you to Septri Prime, so that our Space Council and our leaders can express their gratitude."

            Captain Janeway shook her head. "I'm glad we were here to assist you, Captain, but we have to be on our way. We're trying to reach our home, and the journey is very long, even at warp 9.975."

            He gave a gracious nod. "Our loss, then, Captain. Safe journey to you."

            "And to you, Captain. Our best wishes as you begin your explorations."

 

            As Captain Sirek closed the channel, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Zariel leaned forward with her hands on her knees, just breathing, trying to shake off the horrible, cloying emotions from Ovak. She vaguely heard the Captain congratulating the bridge crew on a job well done, but didn't really focus back in until the Captain called her name, a little insistently.

            "Lieutenant Sindile, are you all right? Lieutenant!"

            She straightened up. "Yes, ma'am, fine." The Captain looked at her doubtfully, and she said, "Ovak's emotional state was…" She allowed herself a small shudder of disgust, then smiled a bit at the Captain. "Ick."

            This drew a quiet laugh around the bridge, and Chakotay, teasing, asked, "'Ick?' Is that a technical term, Lieutenant?"

            "Actually no, it's a Vulcan word," she retorted, now teasing him and Tuvok both. "It translates closest into Standard as 'blech.'" Tuvok raised an eyebrow, but apparently decided to let it alone. Zariel walked lightly back to her station, buoyed by their gentle laughter.

 

 

 


	19. When It Rains

 

Stardate 52029.4

 

            Samantha came into Xeno carrying a holoimager, and a very excited look on her face.

            “Look, everybody!” She brandished the camera at them. “This is the Doctor’s. He’s letting all the different departments borrow it to record messages to send home!”

            “We can send messages home? What’d I miss?” Wally asked, turning around at his station.

            “Well, no, not yet, but we will, hopefully, and the Doctor thought we’d all want to have something ready to send home if we find something and have to send them in a hurry..”

            “Oh yeah, good idea,” Wally murmured, getting up from his station and coming to stand beside Sam, who turned and proffered the holoimager to her CO.

"You can go first, Zariel."

            Zariel carried the holoimager over to her station, and slowly set it on top of the console, seemingly lost in thought. She sank absently into her chair, and sat staring at the camera for so long that T'Lin, Samantha and Wally, standing behind her, began to look at one another and shrug in confusion. Finally, Zariel reached up, picked up the camera and turned in her chair to hold it out to Wally.

            "Here, you go. I have no idea what to say."

            They stepped back, arms folded, and Wally said, "What do you mean you don't know what to say? Haven't you been thinking about it for the last four years?"

            "Haven't we all?" murmured Samantha.

            Zariel spun her chair around and stood up, pushing the holoimager into Wally's chest. "I don't have time right now anyway. I have to be on the holodeck for a baseball game."

            She turned and hurried out of Xeno. Wally and Samantha shrugged at each other, and T'Lin reached deliberately between them to grab the holoimager and take it to her station.

 

=/\=

 

            Zariel thought some time later that she should have been in no hurry to get to the baseball game, because she was doing her team no good whatsoever now that she was here. She’d struck out once and flied out once already, and made a ridiculous error in the field, bobbling the ball and then trying to make the throw to first base rather than flipping it to second and getting the lead runner out. She stood watching Harry at the plate, and devoutly wished he’d come around a bit more as a hitter. It was quite likely he was about to strike out, and as the lead off hitter, she’d be up behind him.

            Sure enough, Harry chopped at a high fastball for strike three and the second out. Zariel tapped dirt off her cleats with her bat, and walked from the on-deck circle to the batter’s box, trying to clear her mind. She dug her cleats in, stilled her bat and waited for the first pitch. _Go ahead and pitch me that inside stuff, try to jam me up, don’t you – whoa, where did that come from?_ Inside fastball, strike one looking.

            She dug in and waited for the next pitch. _Oh, I dare him to throw that inside crap again. Let him throw it again and I’ll take it for a ride._ The pitch was in fact the inside fastball, and she swung from her heels. Unfortunately, she tried too hard to pull it, and only fouled it off down the third base line.

            _Oh and two, time to start hitting, dammit._ She laid off two high fastballs, to bring the count to two and two. _I’ll make like Michael_ , she thought. _He doesn’t even start to hit till he has two strikes on him._

            The pitcher decided to stay with the fastball, and pitched her inside again on the next pitch. She caught up with it, but just barely, and hit it down the bat, and fouled off to first this time.

            The next pitch finally outsmarted her. It was an outside cutter, Zariel was way, way out in front of it, and the ump called it three and sat Zariel down. Her strikeout was the last out of the last inning, and the Voyagers took their first loss of the season.

 

=/\=

 

            Samantha, Wally, T’Lin and Zariel had played for others to listen enough times that they thought their band needed a name. After experimenting with a lot of esoteric Delta Quadrant references, they finally just went with identity and called themselves VX, for Voyager Xeno.

            As they had played more concerts, their presentations had become more theatrical, including lighting changes, video clips and thematic attire.

            Tonight, VX’s set list was protest songs. Earth had a wealth of music to choose from that had been originally written to express discontent, and each human member of VX had come into the set planning at least passing familiar with several songs. Vulcan's pre-Reformation musical tradition was discontent enough, but didn't include much of a unified government to protest against. The songs, as always, seemed to compliment each other, and the set was easy to line up.

            The concert began with the four of them on stage in a semicircle, as they began with the closest T'Lin could find to a Vulcan protest song, pursuant to their insistence that she finally include a Vulcan selection. It was deeply rhythmic and built to a bridge with widely spaced harmonies. Zariel liked it quite a bit; she could hear in it the open spaces of the burning Vulcan desert.

            "Our first selection was a pre-Reformation military marching song. The title is 'na' Oekon t'nash-veh Sular,' which translates roughly as 'For God and My People.'" T'Lin addressed the audience as the lights dimmed everywhere except on her.   "My bandmates defined a protest song for me, and our next selection is an exemplar, delineating a social problem and its effects and espousing a solution, in an entertaining or memorable way."

            Zariel shook her head wryly at the contrast between T'Lin's dry intro and the rollicking song about a man trapped forever on a subway train, as the lights came up on the four of them. Her guitar part for this piece was intricate indeed, and she was grateful again she'd been able to talk Wally into singing lead. T'Lin started them off, playing what was originally the banjo part on her ka'athyra. Zariel came in on cue, but her fingers felt clumsy, wooden, on the strings. She could feel that she was dragging down the tempo, and could feel T'Lin's and Wally's eyes on her. She switched to a simpler pattern, and felt the tempo recover by the time she hit her vocal harmonies on the chorus.

            Samantha had the spotlight next. "It's hard for us to imagine now, on a ship with a female captain and a female chief engineer and so many others, but women didn't always have the same rights as men. I chose songs from the early part of this time and the latter: a song from a textile workers strike in the early 20th century, and a song of female empowerment from over a century later."

            As frequently happened, Zariel loved Samantha's choices. She'd found the first song beautiful from the first, and she loved the way T'Lin's harmonies wound in and out with her part. However, she could hear herself slipping slightly off pitch in the second verse. She mentally dug in, however, annoyed with herself, and was able to hold her part on the last verse. The second of Sam's songs was written as a duet for two female voices, but T'Lin had trouble with the colloquial lyrics and the deliberately imprecise intonation, so the lead vocals were all Zariel. She'd been a little nervous about this one, but their shipmates seemed to love it, smiling and tapping toes along with the faster tempo and upbeat message.

            The focus Zariel had chosen was as close to her heart as it was to her home. She'd thought long and hard about how to present it. "For two centuries the agrarian economy of the American South was based on slavery, and it took almost another two centuries to remove the cultural stain, while the rest of the country deplored and denied complicity, and the slaves themselves sang. They chose spirituals, worship songs from their new religion as their first protest songs. Later, when they could sing openly, they still had much to raise their voices in protest about."

            There had been many, many arrangements of the first song to choose from, and they'd selected an upbeat swing version of the instrumentals, combined with choral-style vocals. Zariel liked what they'd come up with; she thought it stretched their stylistic range.

            The second song, however, was the one that had had Zariel's stomach in knots for close to a week. They'd chosen to present it the same way the original artist had insisted upon: one vocalist under one spotlight, the rest of the room dark. The song's content was utterly chilling, and a successful performance relied on the emotion she could put into it.

            Breathing as calmly as she could, Zariel stepped up to the stand mic as the lights dimmed everywhere but on her face.

            As she poured her heart into the first three verses, losing herself in bringing the song to life, she felt it was going well. But as she was gathering herself for the final haunting verse, without warning her mental shield faltered, then fell entirely.

            The emotional emanations from her audience hit her like a physical blow. It overwhelmed conscious thought for a moment, and left her gasping for breath. She could hear that her crew had repeated the instrumental line leading into the verse, since she hadn't made her entrance. Hastily rearranging what she could of her barrier with a quick mental picture of her refuge, she finished the song with nowhere near the power she'd intended.

            Fortunately she had a moment to gather herself, while the spotlight was on Wally for his intro. "There were plenty of war protest songs to choose from for this concert. Just about every human war had several songs that came to represent it. I guess that makes sense; war was the human condition until we outgrew it. So first, one about the futility of war, and for our last song of the night, one about the commitment to keep on looking for a better way."

            Zariel had lead vocals again on Wally's first song, but she was glad it was a style and instrumentation that was well inside her comfort zone, after having gone to pieces a moment ago. She got through it, though she felt her performance was a little bloodless.

            Wally's last song, however, was a great way to end. Wally had lead on the vocals, and the high energy and driving tempo could cover a lot of missteps. The song was a great deal of fun still, but Zariel was disappointed beyond belief; she'd had such high hopes for this concert, and she'd made such a mess of it.

            It required all of her acting skills to greet shipmates and bandmates afterward, until she could escape to her quarters and ignore ringing door chimes and chirping commbadges all night.


	20. Tuvok's Problem Child

 

Stardate 52033.7

 

            "It's gone again. Dammit!" The wind from this outburst nearly extinguished the flame of the Vulcan meditation lamp Zariel was holding, and she carefully set it down on the coffee table in Tuvok's quarters. She had been kneeling on one side of the coffee table, Tuvok on the other, and now she made to rise, but only caught a shoe in a pants leg and sat down hard, the momentum causing her to slam her spine and shoulders into the front of Tuvok's couch. The impact caused several items on the couch to slide and the end table to topple.

            When she had regained her wind, she said, "Sorry, Tuvok."

            Levelly, he asked, "For what?"

            "For the outburst. For disarrangin' your furniture. For not being able to get this technique. Whatever. Take your pick." She slammed her palms down on the floor on either side of her legs, then drew her knees up toward her chest.

            Tuvok had surveyed her clinically while she was speaking, taking in the high color of frustration and embarrassment on her face, the way one hand had gone to her stomach and the other to her forehead seemingly without her knowledge. He rose smoothly from the floor, and walked to the replicator, where he tapped a couple of panels. The replicator obliged with a mug of familiar yellowish-orange liquid, which Tuvok placed on the table in front of Zariel without comment before returning to his kneeling posture across the table. She gave it a brief baleful look, before extending an arm to pick it up.

            It was indeed the spice tea that T'Lin made, perhaps a little lighter on the ginger. She sipped a few times, and her stomach seemed to acquiesce. She set the mug back on the coffee table and scowled deeply. "This is ridiculous. I don't know why I can't get this. I understand exactly what you're asking me to do, and what it's supposed to look like, but the image just won't coalesce." She folded her arms around her body, and muttered resentfully, "I should be able to do this."

            Tuvok folded his hands on the table. "I wonder, Zariel, if you are aware of exactly how often you say things like that."

            Now she did look at him, confused. "Like what?"

            "I should. I shouldn't. I ought to. I should have."

            She glared at him, and he continued, "It is one thing to strive for excellence, it is quite another to burden oneself with unrealistic and unattainable expectations. I think it pertinent to ask you to consider the source of those expectations."

            "The source?"

            "Yes. 'I should never make an error for any reason. I ought to be able to learn and execute a very difficult Vulcan mental technique immediately. I should be flawless in my duties, in my command, on stage and on the baseball field.'" He laid his hands flat on the table and leaned toward her, challenging. "To borrow from your parlance; says who?"

            She sighed and let her head drop backwards to rest on the seat of the couch behind her shoulders. "I think you know perfectly well 'says who.'"

            "Indeed I do." He straightened up and steepled his fingers in contemplation. "At some point we will need work through this particular obstacle, however, for the moment we shall again go around it. I pose this: if I were teaching Ensign Wildman or Ensign Hall to use this technique, how many attempts do you imagine it should take them to master it?"

            "How am I supposed to know that, Tuvok? I'm just learning it myself, or failing to, and they don't have the motivation I do to learn this stuff."

            She didn't look at him, but she could feel his eyes on her. "Assume then, that they have the same motivation and the same training you have. How many attempts?"

            She cast her eyes about the room, as she cast her mind about for the answer. "I don't know, five or six? How long does it take a Vulcan to learn it?"

            "Vulcan children begin studying this discipline at six years of age." Ignoring her splutter of indignation at the thought of not succeeding better than a child would, he went on, steadily, "Most master it by the age of nine, although some never fully do so. I would say that less than one Vulcan child in fifty succeeds on the first attempt."

            She sat silent for a moment, properly chastened. "I saw what you did there, Tuvok, asking me what I'd expect of someone besides myself."

            "I would be quite surprised if you had not. There is another distinction that I feel constrained to point out, as you evaluate your progress in this matter."

            "What's that?"

            Tuvok rose and came around the table to kneel on the floor next to where she still sat with her back against the couch. "Vulcan children learn this technique in mind meld, either with a parent or an instructor, and the adult will hold the image for the student until he or she can hold it unassisted."

            Zariel froze, irrationally terrified all over again, her eyes never leaving Tuvok's.

            "I am willing to assist you in the same manner, if you will consent to a meld."

            She shook her head rapidly, trying hard not to lean away from him. "It's fine, Tuvok, it'll be fine, I'll just keep practicing, I'm sure I'll get it."

            Tuvok didn't move or speak, trying not to alarm her further, but she scrambled to her feet. "Thank you for the lesson, Commander, and the tea, I really do need to be…" Unfortunately, she couldn't think of anywhere she could say she needed to be, so she just motioned vaguely toward the door as she crossed the room.

            As her hand hovered over the panel beside the door, ready to release the lock, Tuvok asked, "Zariel, will you please consider it?"

            She pushed the button, the door swept open, and she looked over her shoulder at him and whispered, "No."

            The door closed behind her, and Tuvok stayed where he was for a long while, contemplating.


	21. The Mendacians

 

Stardate 52108.3

 

            “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain. I am Viceroy GsTlk. What brings you to Mendacia?”

            “We’re passing through your system, on the way to our home.” The Captain stood in the middle of the bridge, addressing the being on the viewscreen. He was skeletally thin and had purplish-tinged skin, and the top and back of his skull bulged far larger than a human’s.

            “Well, welcome to you. We would be most pleased to trade with you for the supplies you need. May I suggest that we exchange delegations?”

            The Captain, as had become her habit when Zariel was on the bridge, cast a surreptitious glance toward the science station, covering it by turning to sit in the command chair. Zariel gave her a nod, and the Captain addressed the Mendacian leader again. “Agreed. Are you familiar with transporters?”

            “Yes, we have transporter technology, Captain. I’ll send you the coordinates. Our people can beam up when yours beam down.”

            The channel closed, and the Captain rose again from her chair, turning to address Tuvok. “Please have someone from security meet us in Transporter Room One.” She turned a bit further and extended an arm to Zariel. “Let’s go, Lieutenant.” Zariel rose and crossed to the Captain, who draped an arm around her shoulders as they walked to the turbolift.

 

            The sparkling haze of the transporter receded, and the Captain, Zariel and a tall, well-muscled Lieutenant from Security materialized in a square in front of an official-looking building. It was quite beautiful, constructed of pale pink- and blue-veined marble, as were all of the other buildings surrounding the square. Zariel eased her mental shield down, and sensed nothing to give her pause. Whatever people might be in those buildings, they were productive and content. Zariel answered the Captain’s interrogative look by communicating this in sign language.

            The three of them turned as the Mendacian viceroy they'd spoken to from the bridge came out of the main building, accompanied by three others. “Welcome, Captain, welcome! Please come inside!"

            Once inside, in an open, airy room with a long table down the center, the Starfleet officers were given cups of what seemed to be tea, and seated side by side along one side of the table. They spent the next hour making lists of what was available to trade from Voyager, and of what the people on the planet had to offer. Zariel spent the time opening her shield to each of the Mendacian delegation, one at a time, and detected nothing from their emotional emanations that contradicted what they had seen and heard. This she signed to the Captain as well.

            The negotiations wound up some few minutes later, and the Viceroy stood to lean across the table to shake hands with the Captain. "We have an accord," he announced.

            The Captain tapped her commbadge and said, "Janeway to Voyager."

            No response.

 

            As the Starfleet delegation sparkled away in the transporter beam, the Mendacian delegation materialized on the pad in their place. There were seven of them, all heavily favoring the Viceroy they'd met on the viewscreen.

            Tuvok got no further than, "Welcome aboard…" before two of them drew weapons and stunned both him and the ensign at the transporter controls and hurried down off the transporter pad. The heaviest seemed to be in charge, and he began barking orders.

            "You, take communications and the other systems we discussed off line." One proceeded to the control panels and began pulling relays.

            "You, start removing the transporter elements we need." Another hurried behind the transporter console and began taking panels off walls.

            "The rest of you, with me."

 

            On the bridge, Chakotay frowned deeply at Harry's report. "Commander, I'm picking up phaser fire in Transporter Room One."

            "Chakotay to Tuvok." Nothing. "Bridge to Transporter Room One. Bridge to Security." Silence. "Bridge to anyone on Deck Four!"

            Harry had been scrambling at his station, and now he called out, "Communications are out shipwide, Commander!"

            Chakotay told the security officer at tactical to go find a team and figure out what was going on, then turned and directed Harry to lock on to any Mendacian life signs and beam them to the brig.

            "Site to site is down, Commander. Someone in Transporter Room One has taken the transporters off line and has removed some of the components."

            "Where are they now?"

            "Looks like they're moving down and aft, sir, possibly headed for Engineering, except for the two in Transporter Room One."

            "Isolate them with force fields."

            "Force fields are locked out too."

            Chakotay flung himself back down in his chair and started hitting panels on his console. "Somebody find me a way to talk to Engineering!"

 

            "Janeway to Voyager, please respond." She turned and frowned at Zariel and the security officer, who both tried their commbadges as well, and also got no response.

            Viceroy GsTlk was returning slowly, languidly, to his chair, an oily smile spreading across his face. "You won't reach your ship, Captain."

            The three Voyager officers turned to face him. He folded his hands on the table. "I must confess, Captain, I am greatly enjoying your confusion and anxiety. What a shame I shan't be able to enjoy it for long. My strike team is already aboard your ship, and clearly they have achieved their first objective."

            The Captain's voice grew ominous. "I beg your pardon?"

            Zariel noticed how much the Viceroy's smile looked like a shark's. "I believe I neglected to mention, Captain, that the Mendacians are telepaths, and as such, we are very skilled at…" he cast his eyes contemplatively at the ceiling, "…convincing people of what we want them to think."

            His eyes went to Zariel, his smile looking more like a sneer now. "We sensed your little empath here from orbit. We knew if we could deceive her, we'd be able to get what we wanted from you."

            "And what exactly is that?"

            "Why, your ship, of course. And your transporter components." He leaned back in his chair, a very self-satisfied look on his purple face. "Of course, we won't have any need for your crew."

 

            "Mr. Paris, what are you doing?"

            Tom was tapping feverishly on a single panel on the helm console. "Talking to Engineering, Commander."

            "What? How?"

            "Morse code. Engineering routinely monitors helm operations. I just kept tapping out SOS on the impulse activation panel until someone answered. I think it's B'Elanna. They're armed and waiting for our gangly purple friends."

            "Well done, Tom. Anything else from them?"

            "Wait a sec… Yes sir, they've got the intruders stunned and isolated behind force fields, and they're waiting for further orders."

            "Good." Chakotay let out a sigh of relief and addressed Harry. "Priority one is to get communications restored, then we can deal with…"

            He was interrupted by the jarring of the ship as something hit the hull.

            "What now?!" Chakotay bellowed, as the ship rocked, then righted itself. "Visual!"

            Harry hit a few panels, and the viewscreen showed them a black, shiny ship bristling with protrusions and extrusions and dynametric stabilizers. It was about the same size as Voyager, and it was closing rapidly.

            Harry shouted, "They're firing again!"

            After the ship stopped shaking, the officer at tactical announced, "Shields are down to seventy-five percent."

            "Evasive maneuvers!" Chakotay called to Tom, who complied. Chakotay turned to Harry. "Can we get communications back up?"

            "Working on it, Commander," said Harry, feverishly tapping panels. "Got it! Well, ship to ship, anyway. They're hailing."

            “On screen.”

            Chakotay turned to the viewscreen. “I am Commander Chakotay of the Federation starship Voyager. Why have you fired on our ship?”

            They could tell little about the individual who leaned into the viewscreen, as he was clad head to toe in shiny black armor and helmet. “We detected transporter signatures from your ship. Transporter use is forbidden in this system. Shut your transporter system down immediately!”

            Chakotay spread his hands. “It is down; it was damaged by intruders.”

            “Mendacians?”

            “Yes.”

            The black-helmeted being said something in his own language that was clearly an imprecation, then turned his head and barked some orders over his shoulder. He turned back to the viewscreen. "We will send a shuttle to retrieve them. Please lower your shields."

            Chakotay strode toward the viewscreen. "I can't imagine why you think I'd do that, after you fired on my ship." Chakotay spread his hands to his sides again. "The Mendacians are contained, and our transporters are off-line. We need to slow down, and you need to tell us exactly what's going on."

            Black Helmet froze a moment, then seemed to relax. "Very well, Commander." He reached up and removed the helmet, revealing a face very similar to the Mendacian spokesman, the same purplish-tinged skin, but without the bulging skull. "I am Viceroy SrMrk, First Keeper Ship. The Mendacians are prisoners on this planet, due to their numerous acts of aggression against their neighbors. The Keeper ships ensure that they stay there, that passing unsuspecting ships like you don't activate their transporters."

            Chakotay frowned. "Why not?"

            "Because the Mendacians still have sufficient technology to mirror a transporter signal, to piggy-back on it and transport in the other direction. When you beamed them aboard, did you activate the signal twice, or just once?"

            "I'm not sure," Chakotay admitted. "We haven't had contact with that deck since the Mendacian delegation came aboard."

            "Delegation," the Keeper snorted. "Before we banned the use of transporters in this system, we had endless problems with them sneaking aboard our ships that way."

            He laid his helmet on the console next to him. "Our regulations call for the dismantling of your transporter system, but we will be willing to forgo that requirement if you will leave this system immediately."

            "We're willing to leave as soon as possible, but our captain and two other officers are still on the surface."

            The Viceroy rolled his eyes, murmuring what had to be another oath. "Very well. Restore your communications systems and contact your away party, then relay us their coordinates. We will pick them up when we return your captives to the surface. But then your ship must leave. Understand, we will fire on your ship if necessary."

            "Understood."

 

            The Captain surreptitiously motioned Zariel and the Security crewman to their feet in the conference room in the Mendacian capital. The crewman moved closer to the two women, using the movement to cover drawing his phaser. On a covert signal by the Captain, he stunned the two guards standing behind the Viceroy, then the Viceroy, then spun to stun the guard behind them. Before all of their bodies had hit the floor, the Captain said, "Let's go."

            They ran out of the conference room, encountering a couple more guards, which the crewman also dropped with his phaser, and out into the square. Zariel had lightened her mental shield, just enough to be able to tell where people were, despite their emotions which had morphed to almost unendurable fury and hatred. She pointed to an alley off to their left, and they ran down it, as people began to emerge into the square, shouting.

            They followed the alley along several turns, and when they had distanced any pursuers, they stopped, breathing hard, and the Captain pointed to Zariel's commbadge and panted, "Homing signal."

            Zariel pulled it off and prepared to make the modification, when the Captain's commbadge chirped. "Chakotay to Janeway."

            "Janeway here. What's going on up there?"

            Chakotay's voice sounded relieved. "That's a long story, Captain. We can't beam you up, but we have a ride for you. If you'll proceed down the alley, and make a left, a black shuttle will meet you there."

            They headed that way, and sure enough, a black shuttle hovered in the open area before them, not quite touching down. The three of them jumped in the open hatchway. There was a pilot at the helm, four other heavily armed Keepers, and seven Mendacians, restrained by a force field and four tightly trained phasers.

            The shuttle took off and flew outside of the city, where it hovered again about three meters above a grassy field. The Keepers released the force field, and herded the Mendacian captives out the open hatch. As the last of them hit the ground, rolling to their feet and shaking their fists, the shuttle streaked away to rendezvous with Voyager again.

 

            With the prisoners back on the planet surface, and having been assured that Voyager had no intentions of even trying to restore their transporters until they were well out of the system, the Keeper Viceroy was, for him, positively expansive. He discussed the situation with the Captain, now back on her bridge, outlining the reasons for the Mendacians' captivity and the relationship between the planets in this system.

            Finally, he picked up his helmet, preparatory to putting it back on, and then said, "I wonder, Captain, if you might relay a message to your empath?"

            The Captain turned her head to look at Zariel at the science station, then turning to look back at the Keeper, she extended a hand toward Zariel in invitation. Zariel rose a little shakily and crossed to stand by the Captain's chair.

            The Keeper looked at her coolly. "The Mendacians are such accomplished liars that they can even lie with their own thoughts, their own feelings. Your presence was a fortunate opportunity for them."

            Zariel stood at rigid attention, her face as impassive as she knew how to make it, and gave him a short nod.

            "However, you bear no responsibility for this escape attempt. They would have attempted to take your ship in any case."

            Zariel, after a deep breath, nodded again.

            The Keeper turned his attention back to the Captain. "I believe your second indicated that your ship would leave this system as soon as you and your officers were back on board?"

            "Of course. Mr. Paris, Warp 6."

            As the transmission ended, the Captain reached up from her chair and closed a hand around Zariel's wrist. "Lieutenant, call your relief, take the rest of the shift off."

            Zariel tilted her chin up, and her face was still stone. "Thank you, Captain, that won't be necessary." She strode on stiff legs back to her station.

 

            Twelve decks down and a shift later, Wally asked Xeno at large, "Anybody heard from Zariel? She came off shift at least three hours ago."

            T'Lin said she hadn't, and Sam said, "I hope she's okay. I heard that was a bad one."

            “Yeah.” Wally made to turn back to his work, but then stopped. “She wouldn’t tell us if she needed us, would she?” T’Lin and Samantha shook their heads sadly.

            Samantha bounced her fists on her console and rose. "I'm going to go find her." She strode out of Xeno, this time not intending to be deterred by unanswered commbadges and door chimes.

 


	22. "Once Upon A Time"

 

Stardate 52140.4

 

            Wally smacked his console in frustration and spun his chair around to face T'Lin across Xeno. "Sam and the away team should have been back by now. What's taking them?"

            T'Lin did not turn to face him, leaning into the screen at her own console to read a briefing update. "It appears that they have been hit by a second ion storm."

            The door whooshed open, and the Captain entered. On seeing T'Lin reading the briefing, and Wally now standing and reading it as well over her shoulder, she said, "Damn. I wanted to talk to Xeno before this news went shipwide, I'm sorry."

            Wally straightened and T'Lin jumped to her feet as the Captain came in, and she waved them off, saying, "As you were." They remained standing, however, and she came all the way in to talk to them.

            "We've tracked them to where they went down, and we'll find them."

            "Thank you for speaking to us personally, Captain. We will pass the information on to Lieutenant Sindile." T'Lin said.

            "Captain, what about Naomi?" asked Wally.

            The Captain sighed gustily. "She's with Neelix. He doesn't want to tell her there's a problem yet. He wants to just keep her occupied. She's closer to him even than to you three, so I decided to let him handle it his way for now."

            T'Lin folded her arms and Wally frowned, but they both said, "Yes, Captain," as Janeway nodded and departed.           

 

=/\=

 

            Some while later, there was still no news of the away team. Zariel was in her quarters, off-duty, pacing. She couldn't think of anything but Samantha. She had paced what seemed like a million circuits of her quarters; into the bedroom, hard about, into the living area and around the coffee table, bashing her shin on the corner as often as not, past the dining table, a large loop past the entry door, and back into the bedroom. Littered along her route were several PADDs she had picked up, done bits of research on, and discarded in frustration. She hadn't slept at all since the mayday from the away team, and had only tried to eat once, since then attempting only T'Lin's Vulcan tea.

            The door chime sounded, and she answered, "Come in."

            Wally entered, and started to speak, but his words trailed off as he watched Zariel make a couple of circuits. Finally he went and stood in her way as she passed between the couch and the coffee table. She stopped before she ran into him, and said distractedly, "Hey, Wally," as though she'd forgotten that he'd come in, and made to reverse her course. Wally reached for her hands and pulled her down to sit on the couch beside him.

            "What? Is there some news about the away team?" She had gone at warp speed from distraction to agitation, so he answered quickly.

            "No, Zariel, nothing new, the rescue team just left. I'm more worried about you at the moment. Have you gotten any sleep? Or any food?"

            She turned halfway to look at him. "No. What does it matter? Sam could be injured, or dead for all we know. I should have gone on this away mission."

            "She was next up on the duty roster, you know that."

            "I wrote the duty roster, dammit, it's still my orders that sent her!"

            She leaned forward, preparatory to standing up, but Wally laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and as he did so he noticed the painfully tight tension in her back. He said, soothingly, "We don’t know that she's hurt, or in any immediate danger. They're probably just waiting for us to find them." He slid back behind where she sat on the edge of the couch and laid his other hand on her other shoulder, sweeping her long hair aside and digging his fingers into the tense muscles beside her neck.   She raised her shoulders out from underneath his hands, and leaned away from him.

            "Wally, stop it."

            "Zariel, you need to ease up. You're starting to look like you did before your overload." She turned and glared at him, and he spoke very deliberately. "I am sure that Sam will be fine."

            "Dammit, Wally, I said stop it! Stop trying to make me feel better! I can't shake this feeling that Sam's in terrible danger, and if she is, it's all my fault. I sent her."

            She seemed to need to be moving, so when she stood up and began to pace about her quarters again, he made no move to interfere. "And I can't do a damn thing to help now. I asked the Captain if I could go with the rescue team, but she said no."

            The door chime rang again, and Zariel paused in her pacing, turned and all but shouted at it, "Come in!"

            T'Lin entered and drew up short, taking in Zariel's unhealthy and frantic look, and Wally's frustration. She spoke to her CO.

            "I wished to inform you that I am being sent with rescue team Gamma, I assume because of my familiarity with benimite and similar ores. I should return in approximately eight hours."

            Zariel regarded the ceiling malevolently for a moment and flung her arms out to the side. "Perfect!" She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes and allowed her fingers to cover her face. "At least one of us is some good to Samantha." After a moment, she took a deep breath, swept her hair out of her face with one hand and turned to T'Lin. "Good luck, T'Lin, and thank you for stopping by. Go bring Sam home, okay?"

            "I shall endeavor to do so." T'Lin shot Wally a look that he recognized as the Vulcan version of concern, and flicked a glance at Zariel on her way out.

            Wally contented himself over the next several hours with refilling a mug of Vulcan tea every so often, and handing it to Zariel as she paced by, and wishing she would allow him to do more than just be there.

 

=/\=

 

            Zariel had managed to pull herself together for the beginning of her bridge shift some hours later, and was sitting at her station, conveying data to the relevant other stations on the bridge, when the turbolift doors opened. She didn't pay much attention to what else was going on around her until Neelix turned, his face a mask of shock, and the Captain rose to her feet.

            "Naomi?"

            Zariel rose to her feet as well, as little Naomi turned and fled back into the turbolift, the doors shutting behind her.

            Neelix took off after her. Zariel shot the Captain an anguished look, but Janeway raised a hand and shook her head, telling her to let Neelix handle it. The officer at tactical called across the bridge to her for some data, and she was forced to sit back down at her station and transfer the information.

            When she got a free moment, however, she tapped her commbadge and said, sotto voce, "Sindile to Hall."

            "Yeah, hey, Zariel. What's up, anything new?"

            "Not with Sam, " she whispered, "but Naomi was just on the bridge. Wally, she got a good look at the viewscreen and the burning crater and everything."

            "Oh no. That explains her tearing past here a second ago. Should I go after her?"

            "No, Neelix is going. I really wish he would have talked to her about what was going on, before she had to find out like that."

            "Me too. Maybe we should have talked to her ourselves."

            "Maybe so, Wally, but if Sam, well… Neelix will be her guardian, if…"

            "Yeah, it's still 'if,' remember that."

            There was a familiar chirp as Wally closed the channel.

 

=/\=

 

            The three of them waited to go and see Samantha in sickbay until after they knew that Naomi and Neelix had been there. Samantha had just been given a final scan and a clean bill of health when they entered, closely followed by Captain Janeway. Wally strode over to Samantha and wrapped her in a giant hug.

            "Look at you, Sam! Are you okay?"

            Sam grinned. "I'm fine now, and I'm glad to be home." She looked across at T'Lin. "Thank you, T'Lin. I understand you were the one who figured out how to scan through the benimite."           

            "Thanks are not necessary. I am gratified that I was able to be of assistance."

            Sam rolled her eyes at the Vulcan-ness of this, as Zariel stepped forward and gave Samantha a kiss on the cheek. Then Samantha's eyes met the Captain's and they began to converse. Behind the taller Wally, Zariel was able to slip out the door of sickbay without being seen by Samantha.

            But not unseen by the Captain.

 

=/\=

 

            [_Captain's log_](http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Captain%27s_log) _, supplemental._[ _Ensign_](http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Ensign) [_Wildman_](http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Samantha_Wildman) _has recovered from her injuries, and the_[ _Delta Flyer_](http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Delta_Flyer) _, though battered, is intact. The same seems to be true of Neelix and Naomi's friendship, but there is one more bit of fallout from the away team's adventure that needs to be dealt with._

            The door chime sounded on Captain Janeway's ready room, and she tapped the panel to close the log entry, then called out, "Come in."

            Zariel entered, her hands clasped diffidently behind her back. She entered just far enough for the door to shut behind her and said, "You wanted to see me, Captain?"

            As the Captain walked around her desk and beckoned Zariel to join her in the seating area on the upper level, she noted the hollows under Zariel's eyes and the empty expression in them. The Captain sat on the sofa and indicated that Zariel should sit beside her.

            "Coffee, Lieutenant?"

            "No thank you, Captain." Zariel answered as she sat down, unable to conceal a slight wrinkling of her nose.

            The Captain saw and laughed slightly. "Not a coffee drinker, are you?"

            "No, ma'am. I love the way coffee smells, I just can't abide the taste."

            After offering Zariel something else, the Captain picked up her coffee cup. "I wanted to let you know that I did consider sending you with the rescue team. You are the CO, after all. But Ensign T'Lin had more relevant expertise right then."

            Zariel's voice was bleak. "It's all right, Captain. T'Lin could certainly do more to help."

            "Meaning…?"

            "Just that dealing with the interference from the benimite fell under T'Lin's specialty, like you said. I couldn't have sensed Sam through all that ore, not without being able to see her. So I'd have been absolutely no use to the rescue team." Zariel's hands had crept to her temples, and now pressed there as though she were trying to hold her skull together.

            The Captain saw and set down her cup with an abrupt clank. "Are you all right?"

            "Yes, ma'am, fine."

            The Captain shifted closer to Zariel. "Are you feeling guilty for giving the order that sent her on that away mission?"

            "Yes, ma'am, I suppose so." Zariel answered in a low voice.

            "And for not being a bigger part of the rescue efforts?"

            "Yes, ma'am, that too." Zariel's voice was a mere whisper.

            "Have you even talked with Ensign Wildman since she returned?"

            Zariel's fists clenched. "Didn't know what to say, Captain. 'Hey, Sam, how you feeling, sorry I sent you out to get killed' seemed a little awkward."

            "Lieutenant, that's part of being a leader. There will be times when others can do a job better than you can. There will be times when those under your command will face danger and you can't protect them. There will even be times when you have to order them into danger knowingly. And then you have to figure out what to say to them when they come home. It's part of the job."

            Zariel's skeptical grimace told the Captain there was more. She put a hand on Zariel's shoulder and spoke softly.

            "Talk to me, Lieutenant. What else about the job?"

            "I nearly got us all killed in that mess with the Mendacians! If hadn't completely failed to read them, you'd have never spoken to them, let alone gone down there!"

            "They deliberately deceived you. They knew what you could do and they knew exactly how to lie to us. Lying is what they do! Even the Keeper told you it wasn't your fault."

            "I suppose not, Captain, it's just…" She trailed off, hands clasped hard together in her lap.

            "Just what?"

            Zariel lifted her chin a bit defiantly. "Just that I learned early on that everything's my fault."

            "From whom?" The Captain mostly succeeded in keeping the anger out of her voice, but it had grown low and dangerous, and the hand not on Zariel's shoulder clenched into a fist.

            "My mother, mostly. If I failed a test or didn't make a team, if she had a bad day at work, if it rained on us at the beach, for God's sake, it was always because of my 'abnormality.' I guess I heard it enough to believe it."

            "Haven't you been part of your new family long enough to learn better?" The Captain held out her hands in front of Zariel, and waited until Zariel unclenched her hands from one another and laid them in the Captain's. "Voyager is your family now, and here you are valued for just exactly what you are. For your selflessness and your work ethic, for your intelligence and ingenuity and loyalty and yes, for your unique ability." The Captain held Zariel's hands in hers tightly, until Zariel finally met her eyes. "And not least for your willingness to share those gifts. Your concerts and your baseball team have been a great comfort to a great many people."

            "Oh, come on, Captain. You saw the protest concert, and you were at the first playoff game. You saw how awful I was."

            "I'll tell you what I saw at the concert. A note-by-note perfect performance? Maybe not, but if not I couldn't tell and I didn't care. A computer could do that, and it would be utterly boring. I saw the love that the four of you have for each other, and for the material you choose. Your second song choice absolutely broke my heart. You couldn't see, past the spotlight, but there wasn't a dry eye in the house." She laughed a little. "Well, except for Tuvok, of course." Zariel couldn't help but smile the tiniest bit at this, her eyes back on the carpet, and the Captain went on.

            "And as for the baseball game, you weren't the only one who lost that game. Harry and Tuvok had problems at the plate too. And Tom made two errors. But again, that's not the point.” The Captain freed one hand and tilted Zariel's face up to hers. “What I saw most in all of it was you, surrounded by people who love you, opening up and sharing who you are, and that is exactly what I want to see.”

            The Captain took both of Zariel's hands again, stood and pulled Zariel to her feet. “And what I want to see right now is you, heading out that door to go talk with Ensign Wildman.”

            Zariel smiled despite the tears standing in her eyes, and the Captain hugged her hard before saying kindly, “Dismissed.”


	23. What The Hell Was That?

 

Stardate 53955.2

 

            "It appears to be a Class L moon, captain. Thin nitrogen oxygen atmosphere." Harry announced. "You could breathe it, but it would give you a headache."

            "What's that ring around it?" the Captain asked, pointing.

            Harry bent to his scanners for a moment, then answered, "It’s not a naturally occurring ring system. Too many metals, mainly tritanium, and trace elements. It seems to be made up of constructed items." He looked at the captain. "I'm also not reading any power signatures within the ring."

            B'Elanna leaned away from the engineering station. "A garbage ring?"

            "Looks more like derelict ships than debris," Harry answered. "Only one energy reading from the planet, and it's a type and configuration neither I nor the computer have ever seen before."

            "Let's check it out, then," said the Captain. "One-quarter impulse."

            Zariel, at the science station, had begun feeling profoundly uneasy, as though a headache were pounding to get inside her head rather than pounding to get out. She turned her head from side to side, noticing that the effect was directional toward their newly discovered little planet. The sensation intensified the closer they approached to the unprepossessing yellow orb. She turned to address the Captain. "Recommend we don't approach any closer, Captain, there's some sort of effect from it…"

            Before the Captain or anyone else could react, however, Tuvok clutched his head and began to shriek in what was obvious pain. He staggered away from his station to collapse on the floor, writhing, green blood dripping from his ears and nose. Chakotay ducked under the bridge railing and was kneeling beside him within two seconds, but before he could summon the doctor to the bridge, something similar began to happen to all the members of the crew. Zariel looked around and within another five or six seconds, everyone was clutching their heads, folding to the floor, dizzy and gagging. Zariel bolted from her station down to the helm, where she grabbed Tom Paris by the shoulders and tugged him out of the chair. After easing Tom to the floor, she flopped into his seat and immediately reversed Voyager's course at full impulse, retreating to a distance where she no longer felt the effect of the whatever-it-was from the little planet. She slapped her hand onto the comm panel and hollered, "Bridge to sickbay!"

            The Doctor's even voice answered her. "Sickbay here. Captain?"

            "No, it's Lieutenant Sindile. Some sort of psionic disturbance has affected the entire bridge crew."

            "Yes, it seems to be shipwide. I got reports about the Vulcans first, then everyone seemed to succumb."

            "I've moved Voyager away from the effects, which seem to emanate from a Class L planetoid about thirty thousand kilometers distant. I'm unaffected, but everyone else on the bridge is unconscious." She took a deep breath. "This is now primarily a medical emergency, Doctor, so what are your orders?"

            "Leave the comm open, and check everyone for airway and circulation. Get a light and shine it in their eyes and make sure their pupils react equally to it."

            "Yes, sir." She got up from the helm and went to Tuvok first, grabbing a small penlight she knew B'Elanna carried in her pocket, and it turned out to be a wise decision. Tuvok's left pupil was expanded to such a degree that almost no iris was visible, and it reacted not at all to B'Elanna's little penlight.

            Zariel reported this to the Doctor over the open comm, and he instructed, "Activate his comm badge. I'm going to have him transported directly here, and the other Vulcans as well."

            "Yes sir." Zariel pulled Chakotay's limp form away from Tuvok, and slapped Tuvok's comm badge. Its familiar cheep was followed by the whine of the transporter, and Tuvok disappeared. Zariel went to B'Elanna next. After making sure the chief engineer was moving air and blood, she peeled back B'Elanna's eyelids one at a time and watched as the pupils in the engineer's dark eyes contracted quite satisfactorily in response to the light. She checked on the Captain, then Chakotay and Harry, then down to the helm to take a look at Tom. They were all in the same condition – unconscious but in no immediate danger.

            Zariel reported this to the Doctor as well, and he didn't respond for several minutes. Zariel slid back into the helm station, turning around to look around the bridge and thinking about T'Lin. The Doctor had said all of the Vulcans had been affected first…?

            Presently the Doctor's voice came over the comm. "Lieutenant Sindile?"

            "I'm here, Doctor. Is T'Lin all right?"

            Zariel could hear the slight smile in his voice. "She will be fine. She was in Xeno, and apparently either Ensign Wildman or Ensign Hall had already activated the emergency beam out signal on her comm badge before they passed out. I've got all the Vulcans here and stable."

            Something clenched in Zariel's chest seemed to loosen, something that loosened even further when she saw movement to her left, and reported to the Doctor that B'Elanna was beginning to stir. Zariel knelt by her with a few soft words, and then went to each of the bridge crew in turn as they began to struggle toward consciousness. One by one they groped their way upright and slowly back to their stations. The Captain waved at Zariel to remain at the helm while Tom went to assist in sickbay, and Zariel did so, first reporting to the Doctor before closing the comm.

            Captain Janeway pulled herself painfully into the captain's chair and looked around at her bridge crew. "Okay, people, what the hell was that?"


	24. What The Hell That Was

 

Stardate 53955.5

 

            "Doctor, what did you find out?"

            Zariel was sitting in a meeting of the senior staff in the briefing room, and the Doctor was reporting on his findings, while others prepared to do so as well.

            "Captain, the effects are severe for the Vulcans. There was a significant drain on the neuropeptides and neurotransmitters in the brain. The effect was similar on everyone else as well, a neurochemical drain which was measurable.  It would also be cumulative; the longer a person is exposed to the effect, the less likely the brain would be to be able to replace the lost neurochemicals, and eventually it would cause a lethal imbalance. The effect is similar to chronic stress on the nervous system, magnified and accelerated thousands of times. However, I can replicate neural inhibitors which would protect the non-Vulcans."

            "But not the Vulcans?"

            "Captain, the only way to protect them from the more severe effects they experience is the neural inhibitor combined with a Level 10 biogenic field. That's where they all are at the moment, in Sickbay."

            "What about the lack of effect on Lieutenant Sindile?"

            "Well, Captain, since we still aren't sure why her brain operates the way it does," he let his eyes twinkle at Zariel for a moment, "we aren't sure why she is immune to the effect. I observed no measurable drain in her brain chemistry. Exposure to the psionic field is, for her, potentially unpleasant, but not dangerous."

            "Good to know." The Captain turned to Zariel. "Lieutenant: should the effect recur, you have standing orders to move the ship clear and coordinate medical with the Doctor."

            "Yes, Captain."

            "Harry, what did the detailed scans of the surface show?"

            "Captain, the psionic field seems to emanate from a single location. There is no evidence of any life on the planet other than the source of the field."           

            "It is a life form then?"

            "Definitely, Captain."

            "Sentient?"

            "No way to tell at this point. There is some evidence, structures and such, that would seem to indicate that it wasn't always the sole inhabitant of this moon."

            Chakotay asked, "That rock once had life on it?"

            Harry walked to the computer console in the wall and pulled up some of his scans. "It appears so. The oldest ruins are concentrated around our epicenter, here," –he pointed to a location not far from the moon's equator- "and the most recent structures are directly opposite from it, but there isn't, geologically speaking, much difference between the ages of the older ruins and the newer ones. It's as though some lethal effect swept across the entire planet in a relatively short period of time."

            "And you think that it was our brain-sucking friend?" the Captain asked.

            "That's what the archaeological record seems to indicate, Captain. It appears the entity 'ate' all of its neighbors, then its entire species, then started on whoever happened by in space. I observed similar variations in age in the derelict ships in the ring."

            "B'Elanna, is there any way the sensors can detect the phenomenon?"

            The chief engineer shook her head. "Not that I can find, Captain, and I've tried every combination of filters that I can think of. The sensors just can't be calibrated to detect brain waves."

            Tom asked her, "Can we put some kind of force field around the whole ship? Recalibrate the shields or something?"

            B'Elanna shook her head again. "I've tried that too, and the deflector just isn't built to do that."

            The Captain made a wry face. "Well then, I guess the only way to tell if the field were to expand again is if it…if it…" She put a hand to her head as if suddenly painfully dizzy. The others also began to fold forward in their chairs or lean on furniture. Zariel's eyes met the Doctor's grimly for a moment, as she bolted out of the briefing room, intent on getting to the helm and backing Voyager off, again.

 

=/\=

 

            Some while later, the Captain called them all back to the briefing room. Harry had done some more detailed scans of the entity, and the Doctor had provided neural inhibitors for the entire crew.

            While waiting for everyone to enter and settle, the Captain came and stood beside Zariel and said, sotto voce, "If what we experience without our inhibitors is anything like what you went through your first few years on Voyager, Lieutenant, I must say I admire your courage."

            Before Zariel could even think how to reply, the Captain had given her arm a sympathetic squeeze and moved off to call the meeting to order.

            "What have got that's new?"

            Harry had a PADD with his new, higher resolution scans on it. "Captain, it's located about ten meters below the surface, in a small system of caverns. We'll have to drill if we want to get to where it is. In addition, it's surrounded by a smaller, more intense version of the field we encountered, maybe four or five meters across."

            The Captain asked, "But what IS it?"

            "Captain, it is definitely a life form, but it doesn't appear to be sentient. It failed all the standard tests for sentience. It appears to act purely on instinct. It sleeps, wakes up when there's food nearby, eats, grows, and then goes back to sleep again." Zariel had been tasked with attempting to communicate with it.

            The Captain leaned her head into her hand, elbow resting on the table. "It seems to have grown quite a bit just from that little taste of our brain chemicals." Without moving her head, she flexed the hand. "Lieutenant Sindile had to back us off at least ten thousand kilometers each time."

            There was a brief silence around the conference table.

            "So what do we do about it? Are there any options other than destroying it outright?" the Captain asked the room at large.

            Chakotay said, "We could leave warning buoys here. Mark off the space that's affected, so other ships would know to avoid it."

            Harry dropped his PADD on the table with a clatter. "There are at least twenty derelict warning buoys in the garbage ring, Commander."

            B'Elanna leaned forward. "Why not collapse the caves? Fire on the site with phasers or torpedoes, bury it completely?"

            "The cave system has already undergone a number of collapses. The entity appears to have been unaffected by them." Seven of Nine answered.

            Tom seemed to be thinking hard. "Can we stop it from generating the field it uses to feed? If it can't eat, it can't grow any more."

            Chakotay fixed Tom with a hard look. "How is that different from killing it outright?"

            B'Elanna turned her head sharply to look at Chakotay. "There's no guarantee it will ever starve to death. There seems to be extended periods of time between passing ships, based on the derelict ships in the ring. It just seems to go dormant when there's nothing to feed on."

            Harry pushed himself to his feet and crossed to the console in the opposite wall. "Captain, if it had had the chance to finish feeding on Voyager, it's estimated growth would have extended its range to engulf this planet here." He pointed to a map of the system on the screen, indicating a planet two orbits away. "There's a pre-warp civilization there, with approximately three billion life forms."

            The Captain let out the breath she seemed to be holding, and slumped back in her chair. "If it engulfs that planet, it'll expand to fill this whole sector!"

            "And portions of two contiguous sectors as well." Seven said drily. Several people frowned slightly at her; she didn't seem to feel the same sense of urgency the rest of them did.

            The Captain sighed. "All right, I don't see that we have any other choice. Prepare to phaser the site from orbit. If that doesn't work, we'll try photon torpedoes. We also need a Plan B, if neither one of those options are effective."

            She looked down the table at Zariel, who had been silent for most of the meeting, feeling like it wasn't her place to speak much among the senior officers. "Whatever Plan B winds up being, Lieutenant, you will likely be involved."

            Zariel folded her hands in her lap, suddenly apprehensive about what might be ahead. "Yes, ma'am."

 

=/\=

 

            "Fire."

            Two hours later the bridge crew, along with Zariel, hovering at the station immediately behind the Captain and Chakotay's seats, watched the series of photon torpedoes streak toward the yellow planetoid. Phasers hadn't even affected the cave system surrounding the entity. The whole bridge seemed to hold its breath as the torpedoes detonated on the surface.

            "Harry?" The Captain asked.

            After a moment, he replied, "Negative, Captain. The torpedoes rearranged the cave system pretty thoroughly, but the entity is still there, and so is the psionic field."

            "Damn," the Captain said. "Plan B it is, then."

 

=/\=

 

            Four hours after that, the away team was assembled in the shuttle bay, ready to depart on the Delta Flyer. The Doctor had adjusted all their neural inhibitors to the highest setting, and warned them in no uncertain terms to stay out of the inner psionic field surrounding the entity, as the inhibitors wouldn't protect them from the far more intense effects for more than a few seconds. Tom and Lieutenant Andrews were tromping around, partly getting things ready for the mission and partly looking as tough and competent as they could. Harry looked a bit rattled, but Zariel knew him well enough to expect that to disappear as soon as something needed to be done. The Captain merely stood to the side, talking in hushed voices with Chakotay. Zariel didn't dare release her mental shield to confirm any of these impressions; she had all she could do not to let her teeth chatter. Her last, disastrous away mission was never far from her thoughts.

            After far too much waiting around, the Delta Flyer finally exited the shuttle bay, bound for the entity's cave, bearing a canister of Borg nanoprobes specially modified to disable neural connections, a launcher to get it through the psionic field, and five officers, including one empath who had a very bad feeling about this mission.


	25. In A Glass, Darkly

 

Stardate 53955.8

 

Zariel stood next to the landed Delta Flyer, holding half of the launcher assembly and wincing at the whine of the phaser drills. Tom and Andrews soon opened up a maw into the hillside, which connected within a few meters to the cave system. Andrews entered first, firing up his flashlight, followed by Tom, who had the portable lights over his shoulder. Then Harry and Zariel entered, each lugging half of the launcher, followed closely by the Captain.

"Careful, it gets a little rocky up here,” Andrews called back to them, but before they could acknowledge this, the ground opened up at Zariel's feet, and she, the Captain and Harry were sliding into the darkness.

They came to a stop, and the Captain's voice came out of the inky black. "Everyone all right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fine, Captain." Harry struggled to his feet, judging by the sound, and turned on his flashlight.

Zariel got to her feet and began to shine her light around the walls of the cavern as well. "Captain, we could get the others to drop us down some pattern enhancers, and we can beam back to where they… Oh."

The Captain turned to see what Zariel and Harry were staring at. On the other side of the cavern was a pulsating dome that caught and reflected and refracted their lights, clearly the inner psionic field which Harry had detected. Waves of faint purple and yellow, maroon and gray, twisted around each other, crawled across the translucent surface. On the ground at the center of the dome was an amorphous thing, roughly half-spherical in shape, with a deep divide down the middle, perhaps a meter across and half a meter high. Its surface was reddish-gray and irregular, covered with creases and furrows and ridges. Portions of it bulged and writhed beneath the surface, as though it were flexing muscles. As it swelled and bunched, the colors of the field churned and surged along with it. Zariel was reminded of nothing so much as a giant brain. It was the most disturbingly organic thing they’d ever seen.

Zariel looked over her shoulder. "I think we're in the right place, Captain."

 =/\=

Tom had lowered the stand lights down to them, and Andrews was setting up transporter relays between the cavern and the surface. With that done, they would be able to transport out of the cavern once their task was complete. Swiftly they began assembling the launcher that would carry the canister of nanoprobes into the field. After extending rails, connecting control panels and bracing struts, the Captain and Harry stood back to assess.

"It doesn't look like it was damaged in the cave-in," the Captain said.

"It looks fine – no, wait, the clamp on that side looks like it might be out of alignment." Harry pointed, and Zariel climbed the short ladder on the back of the launcher to take a look. To reach the clamp, she had to stretch almost horizontal, and finally, balanced by one foot and three fingers, she was able to reach the offending clamp and push it into place. Dangling there, she didn't see what Harry and the Captain also didn't see: the crazy light show of the entity's inner field, slowly moving to engulf the two of them.

 

Zariel dragged Harry by both wrists over against the cavern wall next to where she'd already dragged the Captain, then laid two fingers against each of their carotid arteries in turn. Having determined that they were all right for the moment, she ran over to the launcher, climbed the ladder, and slapped her hand on the red button.

The launch mechanism failed with a thunk and a gaudy shower of sparks. Zariel muttered, “Of course. That would have been too easy."

She climbed down off the launcher and slid the canister off the rail, tucking it under her arm, and turned to face the pulsating light that was the psionic field, taking a few deep breaths to prepare.

“No!” She turned to see Tom and Lieutenant Andrews enter the cave. Andrews knelt between the Captain and Harry, while Tom crossed the cavern to stand in front of Zariel. “Zee, you’re not going in there!”

“Tom, this is the only way to shut it down. Y’all get the Captain and Harry to sickbay.” When he didn’t move, she said, “Get out of the way, and don’t DH for Harry in game seven. All he needs is a little confidence.”

Before he could react to either the order or the non sequitur, she had shoved past him and entered the field, canister under her arm and eyes on her goal.

 

Captain Janeway sat up and groaned, pushing herself to sit up against the wall of the cave with Andrews’ assistance. She looked up in horror to see Zariel step into the field, the colors curling away from her intrusion.

 

Zariel was not really prepared for the intensity of the mental barrage inside the field, even though she'd entered it a moment ago. She made it three good steps at her initial determined pace, but then began to feel as though she were pushing through chest-deep water. She could feel the intensity of the entity's will, and her senses interpreted it as a counter-pressure on her forehead in response to her forward motion.

 

Harry started stirring as well, and Tom eased him into a sitting position. He clutched at Tom’s arm and gasped, “You let her go in there?” Tom just gripped his arm in return, a helpless look on his face.

 

It began to be more difficult to move forward, and Zariel stopped for a moment, breathing hard, then pushed forward again, each step slower. _I’ll never get there at this rate_ , she thought. She fixed her eyes on the flat top of the entity, and that was when the psychic invasion began.

One by one, her worst memories were rifled through, as though someone were flipping idly through a stack of photos. She could still see the cavern around her, the entity pulsating before her, but suddenly, superimposed over reality, she could also see her own cabin on Voyager. She saw the cabin as it was as she paced around it, anxious for Samantha’s safety, fearing the worst.

She focused hard on the entity, mentally willing the image away. It went, but was replaced almost at once by her cramped little cubbyhole, the streaking stars in her memory a veil over the sight of her goal. She shook her head hard, denying the image, denying the memory and its attendant misery, pushing it forcibly away. It took more effort to will her way past it this time.

She took another couple of steps toward the entity, now trying to see it through an overlay of the console at her original duty station on Voyager. Scrolling across the screen was an all-hands briefing, saying that the ship was stranded seventy thousand light-years from home. Now it was an immense effort to focus through it, to set aside the panic and despair that had gone with it.

As she was forced to relive them, the accompanying emotions took on new life, growing out of proportion even to the scenes to which they belonged. Overwhelmed, she went to one knee on the cave floor, gasping for breath, feeling the canister slipping out from under her arm.

 

The others watched as Zariel went down, and as the canister hit the ground and rolled away from her. Andrews started to get to his feet, but Captain Janeway reached up and grabbed his sleeve, shaking her head.

 

Zariel felt around her frantically until she located the canister and hugged it to her chest. She pushed herself to her feet, gritting her teeth, and staggered forward another few steps in the direction she knew the entity lay. She wasn't seeing it, however, she was looking at the main entrance of her sixth new school, as seen through the windshield of her mother's hovercar. In her memory, she turned to look apprehensively at her mother, who said, _All right, young lady, we moved all the way here for you, where people don't know about your… abnormality. I expect you to keep it that way._

_Yes, mother._

_If you can't keep this thing under control, we really will have to do something about it. We can't keep relocating like this. Maybe a Vulcan mind meld could fix whatever's wrong in your messed-up brain._

The scene shifted to the ceiling of her childhood bedroom, as seen by her thirteen-year-old self lying in bed, recovering after an overload. She didn't turn her head to look at the owner of the voice speaking from the open doorway.

_I can't believe this. You pretend to pass out in front of all those people, what were you thinking? Were you just not getting enough attention today? You are grounded for the rest of the semester, and you won't have any of your electronic devices either! You're lucky I don't whip you within an inch of your life!_

The imposed memory changed again, this time to a montage of the twisted, angry faces of her parents, shouting in counterpoint, to the hands swinging to strike her back, her face, grabbing at her arms, her shoulders, her neck.

_Don't ever tell anyone how abnormal you are! They'll think you're crazy!_

_Why do you always go off by yourself? Can't you be friendly?_

_Little liar, you can't hear feelings, nobody can! Stop making things up!_

_Peculiar! Unnatural! Bizarre! Bad! Bad. Bad…_

 

Lost in the amplified emotions of her memories and completely unable to see the cavern now, she found the entity by the simple expedient of running into it. It seemed to be coated in a skim of cold mucus. She laid the canister on top of it and found the control panel on the side by touch alone. With the last of her concentration, she twisted the timer selector halfway, for what she knew was thirty seconds, and slid her fingers over to the activator switch. Feeling it click into place, and hearing the timer begin beeping the seconds, she wobbled a few steps back on loosening knees. Vision darkening around the edges, she counted the seconds down, focusing on that in an attempt to retain consciousness. With about ten seconds left on the timer, blackness finally overtook her completely.

 

Tom and Andrews shot to their feet as they all saw Zariel reel backwards, then crumple to the cavern floor. Behind them, the Captain leaned to the side to try to get a look at the canister. She finally saw, through the increasingly frantic surging of the field's colors, that Zariel had activated it before passing out. She hit Andrews' leg to get his attention and pointed this out.

Tom turned to look down at her, horrified. "We still have to get her out of there, Captain, there's no telling what'll happen to her when the canister goes off!"

At that exact moment, the canister did go off, simultaneously extending a number of assimilation tubules which plunged through the slimy hide of the entity, and also releasing a thin cloud of gray aerosol, both containing a large concentration of Borg nanoprobes.

Nothing at all seemed to happen for a long moment. Then they noticed that around the sites where the tubules had penetrated the entity, and where the gray cloud had settled on its surface, the entity had begun to turn a grayish, decayed-looking green and the tissue had contracted away from it. The colors in the field faded slowly and the field itself seemed to harden and desiccate, then suddenly shuddered and exploded into nothingness, releasing a rush of air that whipped over the Voyager crew, flinging grit from the cavern floor into their faces before dissipating entirely.

The Captain lurched to her feet and half ran, half staggered the distance to where Zariel lay, and placed two fingers against her carotid artery, then held the back of one hand over Zariel's face. Turning to look over her shoulder, she nodded to the others that Zariel was alive. The four officers watched as the entity continued to dry up and shrivel before them, turning green, then black, then eventually collapsing into dust, the empty canister clattering to the cave floor.

Tom hoisted Harry to his feet and dragged Harry's arm across his shoulders. Andrews came to stand beside the Captain, who had slid an arm under Zariel's shoulders and lifted her upper body off the cave floor.

Andrews slapped his commbadge. "Andrews to Delta Flyer: five to beam aboard."

The transporter sparkled around them.

 


	26. Mind Meld

 

Stardate 53956.1

 

            The captain and Zariel materialized in sickbay, and the Doctor rushed to Janeway's side to lift Zariel onto the bio bed. He ran a tricorder over her and snapped, "Cortical stimulator."

            Janeway turned and grabbed one and slapped it into his hand. He fitted it on Zariel’s forehead and activated it, then pointed for the captain to go to the console to activate the pulse. "Fifty millijoules, now!" Janeway jabbed her finger on the panel, and Zariel's body arced stiffly upward, then relaxed. The Doctor checked his tricorder. "Seventy-five!" Again, Zariel's body arched and relaxed. The Doctor turned and filled a hypospray and spun back to hiss it against Zariel's neck, then back to the tricorder. He tapped the buttons on the hypospray and injected Zariel again, looked at his readings again, then dropped the tricorder on the bio bed in frustration. "Nothing's having any effect!"

            He turned to the Captain. "There's no decrease in her brain chemistry. That thing wasn't able to feed on her, but I'm getting almost no synaptic response, and I don't know why." His tricorder beeped at him, and he looked. "Her vitals are falling now. We'll lose her in about fifteen minutes, unless I can think of something else to try."

            Across sickbay, Tuvok, inside the biogenic field, tapped a panel and released the field around the Vulcans. They exchanged glances, confirming that the psychic drain was gone, and Tuvok walked over to the Captain's side, removing his inhibitor as he went.

            The Doctor asked, "What happened down there?"

            The Captain answered, "When the launch mechanism failed, she carried the canister in and placed it on top of the entity herself."

            The Doctor's eyes widened. "Just like that?"

            "No, it wasn’t ‘just like that.’" The Captain's shoulders curled inward. "She was struggling, like she was walking against a high wind… she fell…" Janeway put a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, and Tuvok laid a hand on her shoulder.

            The Doctor turned back to look at Zariel. "The psychic damage would be immeasurable."

            Janeway opened her eyes and looked up at Tuvok. "Would a mind meld be able to reach her?"

            The Doctor turned towards her and said, "It might, Captain!" but Tuvok steepled his fingers. "It would indeed, Captain. However, she has on several occasions refused me permission to meld with her. If I attempted it now, she would sense my presence before I could complete the link, and would either resist me or retreat completely. She would die before I could even make contact with her." Tuvok pressed his upraised fingers against his lips, and slowly closed his eyes.

            The Captain let her head drop, but then a voice behind them said, "She has never refused me permission."

            The captain, the doctor and Tuvok all turned their heads towards T'Lin, who continued, "I have never sought her permission to meld. Therefore I might be able to establish a link before she reacts adversely." She looked down. "However, I do not have the training to initiate the next level of the meld, and neither does she."

            Tuvok turned to face her. "But I do, Ensign. If you can get us past her initial defenses, we might be able to reach her."

            Tuvok and T'Lin walked over to the bio bed, and stood on either side of Zariel. Tuvok flicked his eyes up at the neural inhibitor T'Lin still wore, and she pulled it off and dropped it on the bed. The Doctor made a loop around the bed, sticking cortical monitors on all three of their necks, and then stood at the foot of the bed and addressed both Vulcans. "I'll be monitoring all of you. Tuvok, T'Lin, once you establish the meld, the danger for you is just as great as the danger for her. If you find that you can't… bring her back with you… you must separate from her, or…"

            Tuvok said, "We understand the risks, Doctor." He looked across at T'Lin, and a corner of her mouth twitched upward. Tuvok frowned at her.

            She said, softly, "This seems an appropriate time for one of Zariel's frequent bon mot, one she offers to inspire boldness." He raised an eyebrow, and she said, "Go big or go home."

            The two Vulcans reached across the bed to each place a hand on the other's face, in the contact points of the meld. They took first one breath together, then another, then raised their hands and placed them on Zariel's face.

 

            The Captain sighed and sagged, holding on to the console for support. The Doctor turned to her and demanded, "Were you exposed to the field as well, Captain?"

            When she replied, "Only for a moment," he put an arm around her waist and led her to another bio bed. At that moment, the door opened again and Tom Paris entered, supporting Harry Kim. The Doctor pointed to the other bio bed, and Tom walked Harry there and got him onto it. Harry was clutching at the front of Tom's uniform and asking, "Where's Zee? Is she all right?"

            Tom leaned over him and held him down gently. "She'll be fine, Harry, just let the Doctor take care of you."

            The Doctor hyposprayed the Captain, and then Harry. Slowly, they both relaxed and their eyes closed. Tom looked over at the Vulcans standing over Zariel, and said, "Doc, what about Zee? Is she…?"

            The Doctor's eyes were bleak. "We'll know soon, one way or the other."

 

            Tuvok and T'Lin opened their eyes, but could see nothing. Normally upon entering another's mind, there was at least… something. T'Lin extended a hand, and felt a barrier in front of them. It quivered as she touched it, and she knew that Zariel was wasting the last of her strength trying to keep them out. She withdrew her hand, and 'spoke' to the darkness, trying to connect with her friend.

            _Zariel, please. Don't fight me. This action was necessary to save your life._ She touched the barrier again, and it quivered again, and T'Lin said, _Tuvok is with me. Please do not be afraid of us. Let us help you._

            Tuvok sent a thought to T'Lin, and she sent out into the darkness, _Zariel, if you will create your place of refuge, we will find you. Picture your safe place, and let us in, please. Please._

            The barrier seemed to clench for a moment, and then melted away. The formless darkness began to swirl and slowly resolve itself into a scene. The details were indistinct, impressionistic. It seemed to be a largish park hovering on the border between summer and fall. A bright blue sky was barely visible through the leaves of many immense, ancient oak and magnolia trees, and the smooth carpet of grass was crisscrossed by sidewalks. Around the borders of the beautiful green place were buildings of varying styles and ages.

            Tuvok turned to T'Lin. _In retrospect, perhaps I should have asked her to describe her refuge to me. Then we'd have a better idea of where to look for her._

            T'Lin turned in a circle, looking around. _I know where we are. This is the Grove._ Puzzlement came from Tuvok, and she continued, _This is part of her university campus. She showed me a photo once._ T'Lin looked around harder, and then pointed to a raised stage at one end of the roughly triangular park. _There. There she is._

            They ran in that direction, and found Zariel lying in the grass at the base of the stage. Her appearance in this mental construct, they knew, would be a physical representation of the state of her psyche. She was barefoot, dressed in a short skirt and a sleeveless top, and on all her exposed skin they could see horrible raised and discolored scars of varying ages. Her hair was loose and pooled on the ground, streaked with blood. Her eyes were open and unfocused. Worst of all, the side of her throat was torn open, a gaping wound that gushed blood with every agonizingly slow beat of her heart.

            Tuvok flung himself on the ground next to her and gently lifted her shoulders so he could cradle her head in the crook of his arm. T'Lin knelt and firmly pressed both hands over the wound on her throat, saying, _Zariel, please, stay with us. Don't leave us._

            Blood continued to gush between T'Lin's fingers, and Zariel's breath was shallow and labored. The two Vulcans looked at each other and nodded. Tuvok laid his hand on top of T'Lin's hands on Zariel's throat, and together they began to whisper in Vulcan, a meditation for healing. They pictured it and it came to be: a soft golden-white glow that gathered around their hands and her hurt, strength flowing from their mental 'bodies' into hers.

            They continued until T'Lin felt the wound close to a scar under her hand, felt the flow of blood cease. Zariel's eyes closed, then reopened, this time with Zariel in them. She took a deep breath and met both their eyes, and said, _Are y’all really here, or am I visualizing you too?_

            _We are here,_ T'Lin replied tartly, _after some initial uncertainty that you would allow us in at all. I must question why you would resist us so assiduously._

            Tuvok shook his head a bit at T’Lin while assisting Zariel to sit upright between them. He said, _Your refuge is beautiful. This is a college campus?_

            _The Grove is the heart of Ole Miss. It's been the same for four centuries. I can picture it best like this, at the end of summer, or at the end of fall._ She raised her eyes to the trees and blinked, and they became flaming torches of autumn colors, the velvety grass replaced by a carpet of fallen leaves whispering in the cool breeze. She looked over at Tuvok. _I'm grateful to you for teaching me how to find my way here._ Then she looked down at her hands. _If you hadn't asked me for this place, I don’t think I would have let y'all in at all._

            Tuvok frowned. _I understand your fear of the meld, but…_

            She cut him off. _No, Tuvok. That's not why. Remember I told you once that I wouldn't meld with you because you wouldn't last five minutes in here? In that jest was the truth. I wasn't afraid to meld with either of y'all after I knew you. I just didn't want anybody to ever have to be in here. It's really not this… pleasant… in here._ The Vulcans looked around to see that the colors were beginning to fade from the beautiful trees. They heard Zariel take a deep breath, and the idyllic scene steadied. _Can we go now? I’m having trouble keeping us here. Please, before y'all have to see what it's really like?_ She curled her arms around her body.

            Tuvok moved closer to her, and laid an arm around her shoulders. T'Lin slid close as well, and did likewise. Tuvok said, in the instructor's tone that brooked no dispute, _Show us._

            A giant glistening tear rolled down her face, and she blinked slowly.

            The bright blue sky was replaced by scorched-looking clouds, and they were sitting in the street in a gray, decimated, ruined war zone of a city. Not a building was whole, not a window remained unbroken. A vicious battle raged around them, explosions and missiles streaking through the air right on top of them. A phaser beam streaked right at them, passed directly through Tuvok without harming him or slowing, and burned across Zariel's upper arm, leaving a thin line of blood that quickly faded into yet another scar. The projectiles sounded as much like shouting, screaming voices as they did like phasers and torpedoes. Zariel looked around at the battle without much interest, and said, _Hmm. I figured it would be noisy, after what happened today. Nowadays the actual fighting is a lot lighter, and I only get hit occasionally._ In response to their questioning looks, she shrugged and said, _Hey, whatever counts as progress._

            She glanced at her companions, waiting for them to get up and run, to break the meld, something. Tuvok merely tightened his arm around her shoulders, and T'Lin reached to wipe the tears off Zariel's face.

            Zariel sighed deeply, and said, _Now you've seen._

            TLin said, _And it changes nothing in my regard for my friend._

            Tuvok's face was hard as stone. _However, T'Lin, it increases my determination that Zariel should learn to transform this place._ He gently turned Zariel's face towards him. _No one should have to live like this. Not if it lies in my power to prevent._

            He reached one hand to each of their faces in the points of the meld, and T'Lin did the same.

 

            The meld dissolved. The two Vulcans dropped their hands and braced themselves on the sides of the bio bed where Zariel lay, breathing hard. The Doctor, who had apparently been hovering, monitoring them, stepped up and scanned them all. Zariel's eyes opened, and Tuvok laid two fingers on her forehead. Her eyes closed again and she began breathing the soft even breath of sleep.

            Tuvok addressed the Doctor. "She will sleep for several hours; please allow her to do so. When she wakes, she should be in acceptable condition to return to her quarters."

            Wally and Samantha had come in at some point, and they rushed to T'Lin as she stepped away from the bio bed, skidding to a halt in front of her. She said, "Zariel will be fine. I am undamaged as well, merely tired." They nodded, looking relieved. Samantha looked pointedly at T'Lin and jerked her head in the direction of T'Lin's quarters, and T'Lin nodded. Samantha took up position at her side, ready to help should she waver, and walked her out of sickbay. Wally pulled a chair up beside Zariel's bed and sat down in it, clearly intending to stay, and shot the Doctor a look which dared him to make an issue of it.

            The Doctor had no plans to try and send Wally away. He swung another chair away from the wall for Tuvok, who sank into it tiredly and asked, “What is the captain’s condition? And Mr. Kim?”

            “They were both exposed to the field, but Mr. Paris says that it was only for a few seconds, and that Lieutenant Sindile dragged them both clear prior to entering the field herself. I’ve treated them and they’ll be fine.” He leaned against the console. “She saved their lives, Tuvok. She saved everyone.”


	27. Most Illogical

 

Stardate 53957.5

 

            Captain Janeway stepped out of the turbolift on Deck 5 and took a right, intent on visiting Lieutenant Sindile in her quarters. As she made the next right and caught sight of the door, however, she pulled up short for a moment, surprised. Ensigns Hall, Wildman and T'Lin were wedged shoulder to shoulder in the open door, facing into the quarters. The Captain walked up behind them, and between the heads of Samantha and T'Lin she could see Zariel inside the cabin, in uniform, hands on her hips and a defiant look on her face.

            "We got a mutiny going on here?"

            The three in the door turned halfway, and Wally said, "Apparently we need one, Captain." He flung an arm out in Zariel's direction. "She was on her way down to Xeno."

            T'Lin, concerned that the Captain was missing a vital piece of information, said earnestly, "The Doctor relieved her of duty for three days, Captain, and ordered her to rest."

            "Thank you, Ensign." The Captain spoke to Zariel. "I distinctly remember hearing the Doctor tell you to take it easy, Lieutenant."

            Zariel folded her arms uncomfortably. "Taking it easy just makes me feel worse, Captain."

            At that, the Captain had to laugh; it was just too familiar. "Fortunately, I know a remedy for that, Lieutenant. May I come in?" Zariel nodded, and the Captain stepped inside, followed by Zariel's crew, who stood side by side again with their backs to the closed door. The Captain extended a hand for the PADD that Samantha held, and Sam handed it over. After tapping on it for a moment, the Captain looked up at Zariel again. "There are five uninterrupted hours on the holodeck, beginning tonight at 1900. If you had that time, what would you do with it? Would you do something relaxing, or would you climb mountains or wrestle monsters or something?"

            Zariel stood silent for a moment, thinking, then raised her face to the Captain's, a smile beginning as an idea came to her. "I think I can come up with a suitably chill activity, Captain."

 

=/\=

 

            Zariel obediently stayed in her quarters until 1900 hours, writing her holodeck program for that night. A few minutes before 1900, she approached the door to Holodeck One, instructed the computer to run her program, kicked off her shoes, and stepped inside.

            She was on a smooth white sand beach in the early evening, the water stretching out before her and the sun dipping toward the horizon on her right. The water rose and fell gently on the beach and a soft breeze ruffled her loose hair and her white sundress. She lifted her face to the salt-scented breeze and inhaled deeply, then dug her bare toes past the warm upper layer of sand to the coolness beneath. Perfect.

            An alert sound came from the mini PADD in her pocket. She'd instructed the computer to route commbadge messages to it, and there were at least seven from people she'd invited to join her here, asking if others could join them as well. By the time she had replied to those, there were twelve others with the same query, and she finally replied to them all to spread the word that anyone who wished to come was welcome.

            As soon as she put the final touches on her preparations, the holodeck door whooshed open, replacing the sand dunes for a moment with a rectangle of Voyager's corridor, and Sam, Wally and T'Lin walked in, closely followed by Tuvok, Chakotay and the Captain. The Xeno threesome, the first officer and the Captain were dressed for the beach, in tropical shirts and dresses and bare feet. Tuvok's only concession was to leave his uniform boots in the corridor. Tuvok and T'Lin immediately walked over to gaze into the bonfire blazing on the sand, Samantha, Wally and Chakotay went directly to the tables near it to peruse the food and drink offerings, and the Captain came to stand beside Zariel, who was gazing out at the ocean.

            "This is beautiful, Lieutenant, where are we?"

            "This is the Mississippi Gulf Coast, Captain." She raised an arm to point at the featureless horizon. "Texas is over there, Florida there, Mexico that way, and…" She turned a hundred and eighty degrees and extended her arm to point again, "My house is not quite six hundred kilometers that-a-way."

            "So we're close to home, but not too close?"

            Zariel sighed, and answered, "Right. My boys and I were planning to vacation here, that first summer I was gone." She turned to face the Captain with a wry shrug. "But I found myself vacationing in the Delta Quadrant instead."

            The Captain's voice cooled a bit. "And you blame me for that."

            Zariel took an involuntary step toward the other woman. "Please, Captain, no, that’s not what I meant at all!” She took a deep breath, considering the best way to make herself understood. “I miss my boys so bad it's like missing an arm or a leg, it hurts every day and when I least expect it. But at home, I'd never have had the chance to learn the things I've learned here on Voyager. Or had the guts to take the chance when it was offered." She cocked her head toward the rapidly growing crowd around the fire and the tables. "For one thing, I'd never have been able to have a party like this, like I've always wanted to. Or had friends to invite to it."

            The Captain's smile slowly grew. "Well then, we should go join them, shouldn't we?"

            Zariel grinned back. "Yes ma'am, but I will blame you a little for whatever party carnage might occur."

 

            Zariel walked past two other tables she'd set up with various snacks, drinks and the de rigueur marshmallows, chocolate squares and graham crackers, and elbowed her way through the crowd of forty or so bodies gathered around a table that was covered with a canvas cloth. "Comin' through, people, make a hole." She stretched out both arms and pulled the canvas off the table, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam and revealing a giant mound of boiled crawfish and vegetables. There was an audible intake of breath from the group, and almost before Zariel finished saying, "Dig in, y'all," there were eighty hands on the table.

           

            Some time later, Zariel drifted away from the crawfish table with a plate of corn, potatoes, mushrooms and green beans from the boil and her third cup of cold beer from the keg. She settled down on a blanket near the fire with Samantha and Naomi, who was experimenting with the maximum number of marshmallows that would fit on a s'more.

            T'Lin came and sat with them presently, and soon Wally did so as well, with his fourth plate of crawfish. Zariel allowed herself to get lost in the mesmerizing dance of the flames, barely paying attention as T'Lin questioned Wally about consumption far in excess of nutritional requirements, and Wally tried unsuccessfully to explain the concept of party food.

            She came back to herself as two pairs of bare feet appeared in front of her. She looked up to see Tom and Harry standing between her and the fire. Harry held out an acoustic guitar towards her, and Tom said, "As I recall, a little beach music is traditional."

            She looked around at everyone nearby nodding encouragement, and reached up to take the guitar from Harry.

 

               Zariel played her guitar and sang for the next couple of hours, sitting on the sand among her crew, as her other guests walked on the beach or played in the surf or milled around the food and fire, forming an ever-shifting audience around her. Wally and T'Lin joined her vocals, if the song was familiar, as did others. A song, a conversation about her adventure, a song, a drink or plate of food put down beside her on the blanket, another song, a quiet moment gazing at the profusion of warm stars overhead. She chose repertoire from memory or from connections to the conversation, pulling up chords or riffs on her PADD if she needed them. As people began to approach and bid her good night and thank her for the party, and as Naomi's head began to droop sleepily onto Samantha's shoulder, Zariel laid the guitar aside, flexing her stiff fingers. T'Lin spoke softly, in between the farewells of those leaving, "I noticed your song choices evinced a certain pensiveness. Do they define a sub-genre which is relevant to this location? 'Beach music?'"

            Wally leaned across Zariel to answer. "There is beach music, but that wasn't it. What's up, Zariel? I thought you were in a happy mood, but the music worked its way into a deeply morose one."

            Zariel hunched her shoulders in a shrug, and shook her head.

            Neelix came to tell her good night, and after Samantha asked if he'd take the sleeping Naomi to their quarters, she whispered, "I noticed it too, but I doubt anyone else would have." After handing off Naomi, she asked, quietly, "Zariel, what happened down there?"

            Zariel looked around at the few remaining drinkers and noshers, and said to the three of them, "If you'll stay till everyone else leaves, I'll tell y'all about it. I'll tell y'all everything."

 

            Zariel gazed into the fire for a moment after the last of her guests had departed, wondering where to begin.

            "Y'all remember how the entity affected you. It couldn't do that to me, couldn't feed off me, but it kept trying. At first I thought it was trying to drive me away, but it was just trying to feed. It showed me my worst memories, and amped up the emotions associated with them, trying to get to something it could ingest."

            She took a deep breath and related the scenes the entity had made her see, one by one, filling in the context as she went. Then she narrated, for Samantha and Wally's benefit, her experiences in the meld. When she finished, she continued to stare into the fire, not quite daring to meet her friends' eyes. The silence spun out for a time, until she finally looked up. Wally's knuckles were pressed to his mouth, Sam had tears streaming down her face, and T'Lin's face had turned to stone.

            She looked down at her hands again, wrapped around her upraised knees. "Other than that, I don’t know what to tell y'all. I'll answer questions, if there's something else you want to know."

            The three of them sat in silence for a moment, until Samantha wiped her face with the back of her arm, sniffling.

            Wally suddenly burst out, "Yeah, I have a question. Do you know better now?"

            Confused, she asked, "Better than what?"

            "Better than what your mom told you."

            Sam asked, "I want to know that too. Do you still believe what you were taught, or has being on Voyager, being with us, convinced you that you have every right to be who you are?"

            T'Lin jumped in as well. "Voyager would not have survived our encounter with the entity if not for your gift, nor would the neighboring planet's inhabitants. Do you take that into account at all?"

            Zariel took a deep breath, and let her gaze wander back into the hypnotic dance of the flames. "I think I kind of do," she said in answer to all of them. She heard the faint tone of surprise in her own voice. "When the entity showed me memories, I had to will them away, kind of push them aside, in order to keep going, to even see where I was going. Each time it hit me with a new one, I remember just thinking, no. That was my reaction, just No!" She looked at them, one at a time, and her words came slower as she followed the thought. "It wasn't like I was denying the memories though, it was more like I was denying them power. Like it was up to me whether I let them control me."

            She sat up straight as the idea finally coalesced in her mind. "Whether I let them define me. And you know what, they really don't, not anymore."

            Samantha scooted closer and pulled Zariel into a hug. "No, they don't."

            Wally reached for her hands to squeeze, his eyes a bit moist. "That's right. You are who you are, no matter who says different. You'd never ask Sam to stop being Sam. Right, Sam?"

            "Right," she answered, leaning her head to Zariel's.

            "Or ask T'Lin to stop being so very annoyingly T'Lin. Right, T'Lin?"

            T'Lin answered drily. "Of course not. That would be most illogical." She laid a hand on Zariel's arm.

            The four friends lapsed into silence, the firelight dancing over their faces, just being together. Zariel allowed herself to sink into their embrace, into their familiarity, their devotion, letting it envelop her like a blanket, until the holodeck chimed midnight, and the beach faded from around them.


	28. "Endgame"

 

Stardate 54973.4

 

            "Look at the concentration of neutrino emissions in this nebula." T'Lin handed a PADD across the center console to Zariel, who was looking at the same feed from Astrometrics.

            Zariel looked, then tapped on her PADD and handed it across to T'Lin. "There's an intermittent graviton flux too."

            They looked at the PADDs, then at each other, then spoke simultaneously. "Wormholes!"

            They both hurried across Xeno to their respective stations, Zariel slapping the all-Xeno-personnel summons as she went.

 

            As Voyager approached the nebula, all four members of Xeno gathered around the feed Zariel had brought down from the bridge, half monitoring the algorithm she'd set up long ago that fed info to bridge stations, and half watching in excited horror as Voyager dodged several Borg cubes. Nobody was surprised when Voyager turned tail and fled the nebula.

 

=/\=

 

            Some while later, it was Zariel and Wally who answered the all-Xeno summons. Wally came from his quarters, but Zariel had been on Deck Three, picking up some data and algorithm updates that needed to be taken to the bridge. She pressed the button to call the lift, looking at her PADDs, when the door opened on two women already in the lift. One of them was Captain Kathryn Janeway, and the other… looked exactly like Captain Janeway, plus about thirty years. The two of them looked up at her as the doors opened, the older with a most curious expression of recognition, then of shock and longing, and Zariel's mouth fell open. She shut it again, then whispered, "I'll take the next one."

 

=/\=

 

            The next several days flew past for Zariel, as it did for others of the crew who had the most pressing reasons to want to get home. Voyager was on course back to the nebula, preparations were being made, and Zariel could almost touch home, almost see that beautiful blue-green orb when she closed her eyes. Everyone was anxious to get into the nebula and see what might beckon them home.

             However, the trip into the nebula raised hopes and then cruelly dashed them again. Zariel had watched the viewscreen relay down in Xeno with her crew, the road home right there on the screen, not so far away at all, and then Voyager had turned and left the nebula on the Captain's countermand of Admiral Janeway's orders.

            The news got worse from there. Captain Janeway was determined to destroy the Borg transwarp hub inside the nebula. In fact, at a meeting of the senior officers, rather than order them to destroy the hub, she had taken a vote, which of course had gone her way, even from Harry Kim. The results didn't go out as a shipwide briefing, but then, nothing travels faster on a starship than news.

            Zariel stormed into Xeno and flung her carrycase on the floor in the general direction of her station. Her crew looked up at her.

            "Y'all heard?"

            Wally looked bleak. "Yeah. I could almost taste my mother's tiramisu, too."

            Sam said nothing, just sat with her elbows on her knees and her hands folded under her chin.

            "I can see the logic of the decision, however," T'Lin put in. "Our desire to get home is less significant compared with the chance to deny the Borg access to the transwarp network."

            "I know that, T'Lin," retorted Wally. "But it was this close. This close! It was the best chance we've had yet to get home."

            Zariel slammed her hand against a wall. "This is the same decision the Captain made seven years ago. I know it's selfish of me, dammit, but why is it always us that has to sacrifice?" She swung a kick at her carrycase, sending it spinning under her station. "'To the journey,' they said. To the journey, my ass!"

            T'Lin's voice had a note of challenge in it. "The Borg are the most implacable enemy the Federation has ever faced. Destroying the hub is a significant strategic objective."

            "Dammit, I know that, T'Lin," snapped Zariel. She paced a determined line back and forth across Xeno for a moment, making an effort to dial back her anger and disappointment.            She sighed and went on, "The Captain's right, I know she's right, but I could almost hear my boys' voices."

            She stopped in the middle of the room, taking several deep breaths. "Well, y'all, we've thought we were getting home before, haven't we?" She met their eyes in turn, requiring a response.

            "Yeah."

            "We have."

            "Correct."

            She was the CO, she had to put a brave face on it for them. "We'll just have to find another way, just have to believe we will." She walked over to where Samantha was still sitting with her chin on her hands. "The senior officers can say here's to the journey all they want, but down here in Xeno, we've got a better one, don't we?" She jerked her head to invite Wally and T'Lin to join them, then held out a hand in front of Samantha, palm down. "Here's to us."

            Samantha looked up at her, and gave her the saddest, weariest smile Zariel had ever seen, but she still laid her hand on Zariel's and said, "Here's to us."

            Wally and then T'Lin both laid their hands on the pile and said, "Here's to us."

            The four of them shared a forlorn moment, then both Wally and T'Lin pulled their hands back, and began gathering their belongings to go off shift. Sam folded her hands back under her chin again.

            When T'Lin and Wally had cleared out, Zariel sat slowly down in her chair. After a moment, she turned it back around. "Sam?"

            Samantha hadn't moved. "Hmm?"

            "Are you okay? This missed chance seems to have hit you pretty hard."

            "Because it was so close, I guess, like Wally said. I saw you put on your commanding officer face for us, but it seems to have hit you pretty hard too. I've never seen you kick things before."

            Zariel said, reluctantly, "I don't know… I mean, I want my boys, but that's not it, or not all of it." She cast her eyes sideways for a moment. "You're upset; I don't want to tell you."

            Sam looked up. "Well, now you have to. What?"

            Zariel pressed her palms to her temples. "I don't know what it is. It's the strangest thing, but since I saw that damn aperture… No. Not since then. Ever since Admiral Janeway came aboard, since she turned her head and saw me outside the turbolift… I've had the weirdest feeling…" She waved her hands aimlessly, trying to put it into words.

            "What?" Sam prompted.

            "I've had the feeling that I'm supposed to go home that way, through that aperture. That it's the only way home for me. Me… and Wally, too."

            Sam's eyes grew wide. Zariel could only shrug, bleakly.

 

=/\=

 

            Wally re-entered Xeno, not too much time later. "Admiral Janeway just left."

            Sam looked up from her console. "Huh?"

            "There's a new plan." He leaned across her and tapped a couple of panels to bring up the update Samantha had dismissed without reading. "Zariel, you need to see this too."

            Zariel, who'd been called by the captain not a second before Wally came in, said, "I gotta go to the bridge."

            "Then you really need to see this, come here."

            Zariel sighed and stomped over to read over Samantha's shoulder also. As she read through the briefing, containing the combined daring and cunning of two Kathryn Janeways, it felt like a weight lifting off her shoulders, and by the way Sam sat up a little straighter, it was a weight off hers too.

            She turned in her chair to look up at Zariel. "This might actually work!"

            Zariel saw the desperate hope in Samantha's eyes. She stood up, feeling more confident than she would have thought possible, knowing the stakes. "Y'all get T'Lin in here, so I know where everybody is while we do this."

            She took off at a sprint.

 

            Zariel bolted onto the bridge just as Voyager re-entered the nebula, and flung herself into the seat at her station.

            After a crazy roller coaster ride through the unicomplex, the Captain ordered, "Take us in." Voyager swept into the aperture, and Zariel felt a chill of equal parts excitement and fear.

            "The Admiral succeeded, Captain. Conduit shielding is destabilizing." Seven reported.

            "Now, Mr. Tuvok!"

            At the Captain's order, Tuvok fired several torpedoes back along the conduit, beginning the destruction of the transwarp hub. Zariel could only grip the sides of her station for balance as Voyager tried to stay ahead of the shockwave.

            A Borg sphere drew up behind Voyager, firing, taking the aft armor down to six percent and causing multiple hull breaches. An orifice opened in the sphere's side, right before the aft armor began to fail.

            Chakotay bolted across the bridge, shouting for the location of an alternate exit from the conduits. Zariel caught only "…but it leads back to the Delta Quadrant."

            Tom throttled back as Voyager was drawn inside the sphere. After a moment, the violent ride of the conduit smoothed out. The Captain asked for a fix on Voyager's position, and Tom replied, "Right where we expected to be."

            Seven reported the destruction of the transwarp network, and Tuvok, at a word from the Captain, fired one last transphasic torpedo.

 

            As Voyager shot victoriously out of the flaming wreckage of the Borg sphere, Zariel stared for a moment at the assembly of Starfleet ships. She activated a relay of the viewscreen down to Xeno, where she knew her crew had assembled. Someone in Xeno answered with a two-way on another screen at her science station, and she saw the disbelief warring with hope in their eyes.

            She turned her head to look as the Captain said, softly, "We did it."

            Zariel turned back to the image of her crew on her screen. Their eyes all moved simultaneously to the glorious sight on the viewscreen, to the sight of home not too far away now, then back to each other. She laid her fingers on the screen as though to touch them, hand trembling, drinking in the sight of them. "We did it, y'all."

            Nobody knew what to say. Even Wally was awed into silence by where they were, by what they had accomplished. Standing beside T'Lin, behind Samantha's chair to share the screen, he looped an arm through T'Lin's and slid the other around Samantha's shoulders from behind. Sam reached up to lay a hand on their screen, touching Zariel's fingers on her screen, and a tear rolled down her face. They stayed that way, touching the screen, until Harry said, a little weakly, "We're being hailed."

 

            After speaking to Admiral Paris, and sending Tom down to sickbay to meet his daughter, Captain Janeway sank unsteadily into her chair. "Set a course… for home."


	29. Farewell Xeno

 

Stardate 54982.7

 

            Starfleet had planned a welcome-home dinner for Voyager at Starfleet Headquarters, for the crew of the "miracle ship" to greet their families, and the crew had been asked not to leave the ship or have guests aboard until that time. Despite the delay this caused, it had been generally agreed that everyone needed the time to adjust. The Starfleet brass had spoken to the crew's relatives to invite them to the banquet, but with the exception of Starfleet brass and addressing medical needs, none of the crew had seen their families yet.

            On the night of the banquet, Zariel found herself unable to leave quite yet. She stood outside the door of Xeno, her hands full of things, and took a deep breath, then took the last step that would cause the door to whoosh open and admit her.  She walked in and looked around, letting the memories flood in.  There was her station, where she'd had actual printed photos of her boys on the panel, changing them out as they sent her new ones in the data stream from Earth.  Her chair, which had always squeaked a bit when turning clockwise.  The console between her station and T'Lin's, which had been glitchy ever since the Hirogen had torn up the ship for their holo-scenario.  The corner where Naomi Wildman kept a pillow to sit on and read while waiting for Samantha to come off duty.  Her first command.  Her best friends.  Even her own quarters weren't as much the heart of this ship to her as Xeno was.

            She turned as the door swished open again, and Samantha and Wally walked in.  They also seemed to be on their way to the banquet, carrying suitcases and presents.  The three of them looked at each other silently, then Sam said wistfully, "Can you remember what color Naomi's reading pillow was?  I can't remember if it was blue or green."

            "It was blue, remember?  She was so proud that it was the same color as Flotter." Wally said, grinning.

            "Oh yeah."  Samantha walked over to her own station and let her hand trail idly over the darkened panels.

            Wally turned in several circles in the middle of the room.  "Do you remember sleeping in here when the ship was all torn up?"  They both smiled.  "Zariel would curl her undersized self up in a ball completely under her station.  And T'Lin snored.  I mean, who knew Vulcans snore?"

            Samantha said, "And Naomi thought it was this grand camp-out adventure."

            Zariel challenged that.  "Oh you did too, Sam.  You put on like you were all miserable and missing your nice soft bed, but you were havin' fun too."

            Wally slapped both hands to his forehead, and Samantha mock-wailed, "Why did the universe curse me with an empath for a friend?  Nobody's thoughts are safe!"

            Zariel said, "What are you complainin' about?  I'm the one who's gotta mute you.  Hey, do y'all know if T'Lin beamed down to the banquet already?  I knew she wouldn't be in here moonin' like us, but I haven't seen her at all today."

            "Ah ah ah, " said Wally, wagging a finger.  "Wait for it…"

            He cocked the finger at the door as it swooshed again, and framed T'Lin.  She entered, her eyes going to her station next to Zariel's, and then to her colleagues.  Wally folded his arms.  "No, wait, don't tell me.  You came to make sure the data banks had been powered down? Or that the cross-references to lingusitics were complete?"

            Zariel and Samantha grinned; this was a familiar game of Wally's, grown out of T'Lin's initial Vulcan reluctance to admit that she'd ever go anywhere just to be with her friends.  T'Lin's next line was something as far-fetched as she could invent, rendered believable only by her level manner.  Instead, she raised an eyebrow at Wally and said, "I came to see this room one final time, just as you did."  She slowly cast her eyes around the room, and then said, "I am gratified that you are all here."

            They slowly drifted to their accustomed places around the center console.  Zariel released her mental shield to share in her friends' emotions.  Wally and Samantha were blinding music and deafening colors, a jumble of trepidation, joy, sadness, anticipation.  T'Lin was a blush of color and a whisper of sound, the same feelings in orderly progression.  They stood there for a while, just together.  There didn't seem to be anything to be said.  There didn't seem to be anything that needed to be said.

            The door whished open, and Naomi barreled in, hollering.  "Mom, I still can't get Seven to say whether she's going to the banquet or not."

            Samantha blinked, seemed to reorient, murmured, "Well, you won't get her there by driving her crazy about it."

            Naomi continued into the room.  "Oh, good, everyone's here.  Look, I made us these."  She held up four devices that seemed to strap on the wrist.  "See, we each take one and all go and see our families, and when we're ready for everyone else to meet them, we each tap this button.  It lights up the light on the others, and when all four of the lights light up, then we all meet somewhere."

            "Naomi..."

            "No, she's right," Zariel said.  She put down some of her stuff and reached to take one of the devices from Naomi.  "In fact, that's pretty much genius, sugar."

            "Thanks, Aunt Zariel."  Naomi held the other two out to Wally and T'Lin.  "Will you do it too? Please?"

            "Sure will, squirt."

            "Of course I shall."

 


	30. Welcome Home

 

Stardate 54982.7

 

            The transporter beam dissolved away from the five of them, and they all gave each other one final encouraging glance before they moved away to their assigned tables.  There was no one at Zariel's table when she arrived.  She turned and looked into the crowd, growing more apprehensive by the second. Then she turned back, and found herself face to face with two tall, handsome young men, both with her same cobalt blue eyes. No one seemed sure what to do.  She couldn't read their faces, and she didn't dare open her mind to them.  Were they still her boys, her best buddies?  Were the three of them strangers now?

            Too afraid of the silence to let it continue, and not sure what in the universe she was about to say, she held out her hands full of things and blurted out, "I brought y'all some stuff."

            They shouted as one, "Mom!!" and all but tackled her into a three-way hug that lifted her feet off the floor and squeezed the breath out of her.  She dropped her shield and dove into their emotions.  Joy, disbelief, admiration, love, but none of the anger or resentment she had so dreaded.  They set her down, so she could fling everything down on the table, then swallowed her in a hug again.  They were all talking at the same time:  "Mom, you gotta come and…"

            "Just wait'll you see this…"

            "You'll never believe what…"

            They all seemed to take a breath at the same time and stepped apart to look at each other, arming tears off their faces and laughing breathlessly.  Zariel cried with relief as much as anything else.  They were still the three essential points that defined their plane.

            They sat down at the table, Zariel in the middle, and dug into the food that had been set there while they weren't paying attention.  As they ate, Zariel reached into the pile of stuff she'd brought from the ship.  She handed the boys each a data stick.  "For your reading pleasure, the ship's log and my log as well. What I've been doin' for the past seven years."

            She lifted a sleek electric guitar from the table.  It shaded from a natural finish to black in a sunburst pattern, and was inlaid with a gold logo that was a stylized combination of the letters V and X, with a scrawly signature underneath.  She handed it to Michael, and said, "Here you go, a signed guitar played onstage by the lead guitarist of VX."  She set a data cube on the table in front of him. "And VX live in concert, all ten shows."  She added a framed photo of herself playing that same guitar.

            Next she picked up a baseball bat and a glove, both bearing the same scrawly signature, and laid them in front of Patrick. "Bat and glove used on the field by the Voyagers' shortstop."  Another data cube.  "Replays of all three seasons, including post season play." Another photo, a group of people in baseball uniforms, herself in the middle of the front row.

            Michael said, utterly blankly, holding the guitar, "You had a band?"

            Patrick had frozen with a loaded fork in midair.  "You had a... baseball team?"

            She laughed.  "Well, y'all gotta understand what it was like.  It wasn't all gettin' hunted by Hirogen, or outfoxin' the Borg, or the other crazy stuff I wrote you about.  There were weeks, even months, when we were just flying, in a straight line, as monotonous as it gets.  You get all caught up on your work and then get as prepared as you can for the next crisis and then what do you do with yourself?  Those were the times that wanting to be home hit everyone the hardest.  Everybody had their ways of dealing with it, you know.  I used to go as far forward as there was on the ship, and lean against the bulkhead, like I could push the ship home faster.  Also, there was only so much holodeck time to go around, so folks started sharin' and gettin' involved with each others' simulations.  There was an Irish village we all shared for a while.  VX came about when Samantha and I decided to play together one time and then discovered that Wally and T'Lin were musicians too, so we all started playing together, then started inviting people to come, like a concert?  It grew, it was crazy.  Then the Voyagers got started because Tom and Harry accidentally loaded my baseball program once and started playing it, and of course I was playing it too and when we discovered we were all playing it, we started playing together.  That grew too.  'Fore too long we had a championship team and a pretty regular bleachers crew."

            She indicated the guitar and the bat.  "In both cases the holodeck kept changin' up my gear every time the program changed, and it drove me nuts.  So eventually I just skipped lunch for a couple months and saved up replicator rations and replicated what I wanted."

            She reached out and took their hands. "I felt closest to you boys when I was playin' guitar or playin' ball, and it was a lot healthier than leanin' against a bulkhead all by myself."

            She looked down at Naomi's device on her wrist, and saw that three of the lights were glowing.  She jammed a finger on hers, looked at her sons and said, "So, y'all want to meet the band?"

 

            As they wended their way through the crowd, Zariel pointed out some of the other Voyagers players.

            "Chakotay, the first officer.  Batted cleanup, and a brick wall behind the plate."

            "There's my teacher Tuvok, he pitched relief.  Decent enough fastball, but his off-speed stuff was absolutely brutal, he did the geometry in his head.  Batted second, highest OBP on the team."

            "Harry Kim there, center field.  He barely even knew how to play when we started, grew a glove like a black hole.  Batted ninth though, when we didn't DH for him."

            "Tom Paris, way over there, with the baby, see?  Second base, three hole hitter, and an encyclopedia of twentieth and twenty-first century baseball.  It was a little creepy."

 

            Zariel and her boys arrived at their appointed meeting place, an open area at the back of the banquet hall, at the same time everyone else did.  Wally was accompanied by an older couple who looked just like him, flaming red hair and all.  T'Lin stood among an older couple and three women who had her same delicate features.  Samantha was holding her husband's hand as though she never intended to let it go.   Naomi, however, looked uncertain, and when Zariel walked up, she slipped a small warm hand into Zariel's.  For a moment no one said anything, then Zariel leaned down to Naomi and said, "Why don't you start us off, sugar?  Introduce us to your daddy."

            Naomi smiled, then said to the group at large, "This is my father, Greskrendtregk."  She didn't seem to know what else to add, having just met her father herself, so she turned to him then and continued, "This is Lieutenant Zariel Sindile, Ensign Wallace Hall and Ensign T'Lin.  They and Mom formed a whole new department on Voyager, the Xeno department."  They each greeted him, their smiles amplified by the utter joy on Samantha's face.

            T'Lin addressed the group next.  "My father, Stirek, experimental farmer, and my mother, T'Mei, instructor of geology at the Vulcan Science Academy. My sisters, T'Peli, T'Jan and T'Sar."  She turned to her family and continued, "Mother, father, sisters, these are my colleagues - no, my friends, from Voyager.  Zariel is a xenolinguist, Wally is a xenobotanist, and Samantha a xenobiologist."

            Wally raised a hand in the Vulcan salute.  "It's a pleasure to meet you."

            Samantha gave the Vulcan salute as well.

            Zariel gave a half bow and said something polite-sounding in Vulcan, drawing a startled look from both of her boys.  T'Lin's family all returned the gesture and answered in the same language, then exchanged very gratified looks.

            Wally was standing with an arm around his mother, and he put a hand on his father's shoulder.  "My folks, Bruce and Diana Hall.  My mom's a teacher too, T'Lin, she teaches music theory and operatic performance at La Sapienza Universita in Rome, and dad's a doctor.  Mom, Dad, these are my ladies, Zariel, T'Lin, Samantha."

            Zariel smiled around at the whole circle.  "These are my boys.  Patrick here is going to graduate next month from the University of Mississippi School of Law, with honors, and Michael is a junior in pre-med at Ole Miss."  To her sons she said, "Boys, this is VX.  Sam plays keyboards, T'Lin can play anything with strings from a ka'athyra to a double goose and make it look easy, and Wally's our drummer."  She addressed the entire group again.  "We four relied on playing music together to make it easier being away from all of y'all.  Then we found that the four of us together made everything easier.  All of Voyager became a family, but Xeno particularly.  I'm proud to think of your loved ones as my brother and sisters."


	31. Already There

 

Stardate 54982.8

 

            The knot of people still hadn't dissolved well over an hour later, merely rearranging constantly as conversations moved and flowed. At one point, Zariel got the opportunity to talk with T'Lin's mother.

            T'Mei asked her, "What are your plans now?"

            "I'm going to take up one of the teaching posts I've been offered. And of course, the Xeno department will be debriefing with Starfleet part time for quite a while."

            T'Mei raised an eyebrow. "At Starfleet Academy? The one you were intending to take before Voyager was lost?"

            Zariel smiled a bit. "No, ma'am, I'll be teaching linguistics at my alma mater. Two sections of Xeno and two sections of Chrono."

            T'Lin's father joined them, and asked, "Was the position at Starfleet Academy no longer available? Are you resigning your commission?"

            Zariel shook her head. "No, sir, it was, and I'm not, I'll be on detached duty. It's just, I didn't really feel like the Academy was the right place for me to be right now. I never realized how much Ole Miss represented home to me, and now it's home to my boys too. So I think I'll just stay home for a while."

            Before Zariel had become friends with T'Lin, she wouldn't have known that the looks on the Vulcans' faces was one of approval.

 

=/\=

 

            Well over another hour later, the large crowd in the banquet hall had cleared out considerably, and the Xeno group were some of the last remaining. Zariel found herself face to face with Samantha and her husband, and back to back with Wally, who was talking to her sons. She heard Michael ask Wally, a note of disbelief in his voice, "Did y'all really have a band? And play in front of people? My mom too?"

            Zariel could feel Wally's amusement. "We sure did, kid, and we are good." Wally held up one finger to pause the dialogue, turned and placed a hand on Zariel's shoulder as he leaned around her to speak to Samantha as well. "Ladies, what about that playlist we never played?" He raised his eyebrows invitingly. "There'll never be a better time for it."

            Samantha tilted her head, a reluctant look on her face, and Wally grinned. "Come on, you know you want to." He rose on his toes to call over the crowd, "Hey, T'Lin! You up for the unplayed playlist?"

            T'Lin leaned slightly to one side, to see Wally over the shoulder of his father, and said, not quite neutrally, "If everyone else wishes it."

            Wally said triumphantly, "Yes!" and wove his way out of the knot of people, stopping at Zariel's table to pick up the guitar lying there.

            Zariel looked at Samantha and tipped her head after Wally. They followed, and T'Lin eased out of the group as well.

 

            As Zariel waved the families over to the little circle of chairs they'd dragged together, she spoke to all of them as the foursome settled in with the instruments Wally had just replicated.             "Our concerts all had a thematic connection, and when we were doing research, we came across a lot of songs that shared this theme. Each of us chose one, but we never quite had the heart to share them with our shipmates. We'd play them together when one of us needed to, when one of us just couldn't stand to be away from home one more second. But now that we are home, and not just longing to be, we think it's the right time to play them, and y'all are the right ones to hear 'em."

            "As for which song was chosen by whom, we'll leave you to guess, if y'all want to."

           

            Wally's choice of songs was the perfect way to begin this playlist. It was a poetic, almost mystical glimpse of the sights and tastes of home, and the four of them loved it for the idealized images of their own homes the song evoked. The smooth a capella harmonies seemed to conjure both the star-studded wanderlust that had led each of them into Starfleet in the first place, and the romantic lure of home.

            T'Lin's selection, as was typical of her, was as interesting musically as lyrically. Throughout the time VX had been playing this song, T'Lin had added more and more complexity to the instrumentals and the vocal harmonies, even more than the sophistication present in the original. The desire for home in her song was nothing startling for a Vulcan, but the muted, wistful nature of the song suited T'Lin and her measured vocals perfectly.

            Zariel loved Samantha's song almost as much as Sam did. She loved her guitar solos, and the way it built to the emotion of the bridge. The song had been originally written by a road musician for his love, and was a hymn of praise to the solidity of a relationship despite the time the two were apart.  It was perfect for Sam and her husband. Zariel had planned to arrange lighting only on Sam and her keyboard if they'd ever performed this song, and allow the vocals to come out of the dark, but here she settled for dragging her chair slightly behind Sam's as the piano intro began.

            Zariel's own pick was nothing she would choose on its own merits. She found the melody facile and the lyrics a bit uninspired. But when the four of them had heard it, the immediate consensus was that it had to be on the list, for the fact that it so often repeated one of Zariel's down-home sayings, and also because it had originally been written to honor servicemen and women and the sacrifices their families made. As they played, Zariel let her eyes wander slowly over her family's families, and on the last line of the song, met her boys' eyes and held them, and let her love for them resonate in her voice. The entire universe for a moment seemed to narrow to her Voyager siblings and her beloved sons.

            "I'm already there."


End file.
